No one recognized, at first, the immaculate flannel-clad élégante as the bearded scientist whose strange actions had amused the crowd on the beach. A heavy solemn man addressed him:
“Friend of his?” he asked, nodding toward the artist.
“Yes.”
“He’ll need ’em. Going to give evidence?”
“To hear it, rather,” replied Kent pleasantly. “Where’s the body?”
“Inside. Just brought it over from Doctor Breed’s. He’s the medical officer, and he and the sheriff are running the show. Your friend want a lawyer, maybe?”
The thought struck Kent that, while a lawyer might be premature, a friend in the town might be very useful.
“Yes,” he said; “from to-morrow on.”
“Meanin’ that you’re in charge to-day,” surmised the big man shrewdly.
Kent smiled. “I dare say we shall get on very well together, Mr.—” his voice went up interrogatively.