“Have they found the body yet, I wonder? I’d like to know whether it was any of our pals, Jim?”
“He’s sure to float the ninth day—he won’t lie longer at the bottom. They won’t go to the trouble of draggin’ for him, will they, Bob?”
“They’ll drag to little purpose,” I muttered from the corner.
The fellows turned round and looked at me.
“And what is there about that dead-un’s carcass that a creeper should not grip it? Let me see—how was the tide?—it was Jack water at the time. I’ll bet a dollar he’s not lower down than Lime-house.”
“I’ll wager twice the sum he’s not half so far,” I answered, with desperate composure.
“And where do ye say he is?” asked the fellow, with a stare.
“Here!—in this room!—seated on this chair!—and talking to you at this moment!”
“Well!” exclaimed the sailor, “if that ain’t a rum confession. I never knew in my born days, a man that passed forged flimsies split upon himself before.”
“Nor would I, had I done so—I am innocent.”