"He's safe enough today," Anderson said. "The man isn't fit to lift a little finger at the moment. He'd have to be carried if he escaped, and I don't suppose there's any one here who would be willing to carry him."
So Grant, conscious of being entirely unreasonable and at sea with himself, agreed, wrote a second report to Barker to supplement the one he had written on the previous night, and departed to the river with Drysdale.
After a day of wide content, broken only by the arrival of Pidgeon's subordinate, a youth with a turned-up nose and ears that stuck out like handles, with telegrams from Barker, they came back to the house between tea and dinner; and Grant, after a wash, knocked at the door that sheltered Lamont. Miss Dinmont admitted him, and he met the black eyes of the man on the bed with a distinct feeling of relief; he was still there.
Lamont was the first to speak. "Well, you've got me," he said, drawling a little.
"Looks like it," said Grant. "But you had a good run for your money."
"Yes," agreed the man, his eyes going to Miss Dinmont and coming back at once. "Tell me, what made you dive off the boat? What was the idea?"
"Because swimming and diving is the thing I'm best at. If I hadn't slipped, I could have got to the rocks under water and lain there with only my nose and my mouth out until you got tired looking for me, or the dark came. But you won — by a head." The pun seemed to please him.
There was a little silence, and Miss Dinmont said in her clear, deliberate voice, "I think, Inspector, he's well enough to be left now. At least, he won't need professional services any longer. Perhaps some one in the house would look after him to-night?"
Grant deduced that this was her way of saying that the man was strong enough now to have a more adequate guard, and thank-fully agreed. "Do you want to go now?"
"Just as soon as some one can take my place without any one being upset."