Lanyard, scrutinising the deck with the flashlamp, stooped, picked up something, and offered it on an outspread palm upon which he trained the clear electric beam.
"Cigarette stub?" Monk said, and sniffed. "That's a famous find!"
"A cigarette manufactured by the French Régie."
"And well stepped on, too," Phinuit observed. "Well, what about it?"
"Who that uses this part of the deck would be apt to insult his palate with such a cigarette? No one of us--hardly any one of the officers or stewards."
"Some deck-hand might have sneaked aft for a look-see, expecting to find the quarterdeck deserted at this hour."
"Even ordinary seamen avoid, when they can, what the Régie sells under the name of tobacco. Nor is it likely such a one would risk the consequences of defying Captain Monk's celebrated discipline."
"Then you believe it was Popinot, too?"
"I believe you would do well to make the search you have promised thorough and immediate."
"Plenty of time," Monk replied wearily. "I'll turn this old tub inside out, if you insist, in the morning."