"Enjoyed the week?" I asked.
"Splendid," he said, beaming and showing his white teeth. "Splendid."
"Did that Afghan chap have a shot at you?"
"Once or twice," he nodded. "He's a rattling poor shot."
"Shoot back?"
"Once or twice; never hit him."
He was on board for three hours, and I don't believe he said another word (as a matter of fact he slept most of the time); but as he was going away he wanted to know whether I had seen Mr. Scarlett's snake again.
I had not. He kept a bandage round it now. If he did uncover it, he did so at night.
Popple Opstein was evidently still very interested in it.
"I wish he'd let me try that dodge of a pair of pincers and a bit of tin slipped under it, or wiring its head or something," he said.