He laughed. "Friend!" he said. "That's good!" Then his tone changed. "You'd better be on your way," he said threateningly. "I'm in no mood for fooling."
"I've been trying to overtake you since noon," I said, merely to be saying something. An instinct told me there was nothing like a little conversation to let down a desperate man.
"Why, in God's name?" he demanded. "What good am I to you now?"
"I no longer believe you guilty."
"I don't give a damn what you believe."
"I want you to help me find the thief."
"It's nothing to me who took the pearls. She's got 'em back again. You'd better go on. I won't stand for any interference."
"You won't do it now," I said confidently.
"Won't I!"
He made a move to uncork the little vial. I struck his wrist and it fell to the ground. We searched for it frantically in the dark. I had the light, and I saw it first. I put my heel on it, and ground the fragile, deadly thing into the planks of the bridge floor. He cursed me.