“Yes, sir.”
Pepster glanced at me but I shook my head. I intended to have a few words with Thoyne on my own account.
“I’m no good at a search,” I said. “That is police work. I’ll leave it to you.”
It was the first time I had spoken since we had boarded the yacht.
“And now,” Thoyne said, facing me with glaring eyes, “perhaps you’ll tell me what the hell sort of game you think you are playing.”
I regarded him smilingly for a moment or two.
“Did you get Miss Clevedon’s telegram?” I asked.
“Why,” he said quickly, “did she tell—oh, I don’t know what you are talking about. And I don’t understand why you want to butt in on this. What business of yours is it, anyway?”
“Well, I thought perhaps it was the telegram that caused you to send Tulmin away so hurriedly yesterday,” I remarked.
He stood glaring at me for a moment or two, then turned away with a quick laugh.