“But, my dear Cob, people who are drugged cannot help going to sleep.”
“Drugged!”
“To be sure. Didn’t you say that you drank a little water and afterwards grew sleepy?”
“But I did not know it was the water.”
“Here, let me look at your bottle and glass.”
I took him into the office and showed him the empty receptacles and the two patches on the floor.
“Clumsily done, Cob,” he said after looking at and smelling them. “This was done to keep anyone suspicious from examining the water. Yes, Cob, you were drugged.”
“Oh, Uncle Bob,” I cried excitedly, “I hope I was!”
“I don’t see why you need be so hopeful, but it is very evident that you were. There, don’t worry yourself about it, my boy. You always do your duty and we’ve plenty to think of without that. We shall spoil two breakfasts at home.”
“But, uncle,” I cried, clinging to his arm, “do you really think I may believe that my sleepiness came from being drugged?”