“I’m very glad,” said Stan, “for I believed in him, and I’m sure my father and uncle did. It must be one of the coolies, then. How are we to find out?”
“By going on quietly and not appearing to suspect. As I say, there is no immediate danger, and we have other things to think about. What do you propose doing first?”
“Asking your advice about Mr Blunt. I want to send for a doctor at once.”
“Ah, yes! But you ask my advice. Well, it is that you wait till the morning.”
“Wait till the morning? I want to send a boat with a messenger down the river to the port to bring back a doctor.”
“He could only bring a native one, and he has one now.”
“What! Wing? He is not a surgeon.”
“No; but he knows a great deal of that sort of thing. He has helped Mr Blunt to doctor the men often enough here, and I’d as soon trust him if I were wounded as I would an ordinary native surgeon. You see how well he has treated the governor already.”
“Roughly bandaged him up,” said Stan impatiently; “but he may bleed to death in the night.”
“Not likely, sir. Wing plugged his wounds, and I looked to see that the bleeding had stopped.”