“I propose,” replied Mr Brymer, “that I get a couple of tins out of the store and open them. Then Dale here shall take them to the cook; the excuse for their being opened is to be that so many tins have gone bad.”
“Which is true enough,” said the captain, feebly.
“Exactly,” continued Mr Brymer; “and these were opened to make sure that they were all right.”
“Well?”
“You can give me the stuff—laudanum, or whatever it is—to mix with the contents of one tin, which Dale can take to the cook, and tell him to warm up and reduce with hot water, while he reserves the other for our table.”
“But why give him two?” said the doctor.
“Because I want to avert suspicion in every way. The cook has been mixed up with the men, and he shut himself up as you know in dread of our punishing him, perhaps shooting him down. He may suspect something, and manage to warn the men. If two tins are sent, one for the men and one for our own table, everything will look simple and ordinary.”
“And suppose he gives us the drugged one by mistake?”
“We can guard against that by sending a large one and a small one. No—by sending two different kinds.”
“There is only one kind,” said the captain.