“Huh!” grunted Trim.
“If ee keep up that kind of fool play,” continued the old sailor, “ye’ll never live long enough to be hanged.”
Trim grunted again.
“Come, lad,” persisted Dobbin; “do let an ole fellow like me give ee a bit of advice. It’s all well enough to be brave an’ do ee duty to the law an’ hunt down criminals, but ee have got yer own life to think of an’ ee shouldn’t forget that ee have friends and relations, perhaps, who think well of ee.
“It would be a sore day for ole Dobbin, to mention the poorest of your friends, if he should have to go back thinkin’ of ee as stamped to death by an elephant or murdered by these heathen savages.”
“Dobbin,” said Trim, suddenly, putting down the glass; “you’re not the least of my friends. You are one of the best I ever had, and I have got relations, too, that I haven’t seen for a long time.
“I’ll give you my word that I will try to be careful in the future for your sake and for theirs, and I’ll promise, too, that after we get through with this case I won’t be persuaded to do any more detective work of any kind until I get back to America.”
“It does me heart good to hear ee say that, lad!” exclaimed Dobbin.
“Just the same,” continued Trim, “I’m glad I went back after this spyglass.”
“Aye! I suppose ee thinks a good deal of the little thing.”