For Jerry was thinking about cases he had read of in the papers, and, being somehow naturally prone to fancy people in trouble likely to make away with themselves by jumping into flooded rivers, he now took up the idea that the lieutenant, after a disastrous night of play, had some reason for desiring to get rid of him.
“There’s two double centre-fire breech-loaders in the case,” he said to himself, “and there’s his revolver and his sword, besides that old hunting-knife in the shark’s-skin case—there’s every temptation for a young man to do it. Oh, what a world this is! Why, that there Mark Frayne’s been the cause of all the trouble, and driven S’Richard away—blow him!—Dick Smithson. I won’t think of him by that name. But if I went and did good to everybody by knocking Master Mark on the head, or holding him under water till he was full and wouldn’t go any more, they’d try me for it, and then—Never mind: I won’t think what. I haven’t patience with such laws.”
Jerry stood listening, but all was very silent inside, and he grew more uneasy.
“I won’t go,” he said to himself. “He means something, or he wouldn’t have been in such a jolly hurry to get rid of me. Phew! how hot it is turned, and my hands and feet are like ice.”
He wiped his damp forehead, and stood gazing at the door, shaking his head mournfully, and with the dread of something wrong on the increase. But all was still, and even that Jerry looked upon as a bad omen.
“I know,” he muttered. “He has been and lost all his tin, and he’s making his will; and I don’t want him to, even if he’s going to leave me that horse-shoe pin with diamonds in for nails. Here! I can’t stand this—I’ll go in!”
Jerry hesitated for a few minutes, and then, unable to control the intense desire to see what was going on, he was about to take hold of the handle of the door, but he paused in doubt, for he had no excuse.
The next minute the excuse had come, and he entered quickly, to find Lacey writing, and ready to look up inquiringly.
“Beg pardon, sir, thought you might be in your bedroom. Didn’t happen to see a little pig-skin purse, did you?”
“No!” said the lieutenant, gruffly.