‘Thought it was what boy?’ inquired the senior officer.
‘The housebreaker’s boy, sir!’ replied Giles. ‘They—they certainly had a boy.’
‘Well? Do you think so now?’ inquired Blathers.
‘Think what, now?’ replied Giles, looking vacantly at his questioner.
‘Think it’s the same boy, Stupid-head?’ rejoined Blathers, impatiently.
‘I don’t know; I really don’t know,’ said Giles, with a rueful countenance. ‘I couldn’t swear to him.’
‘What do you think?’ asked Mr. Blathers.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ replied poor Giles. ‘I don’t think it is the boy; indeed, I’m almost certain that it isn’t. You know it can’t be.’
‘Has this man been a-drinking, sir?’ inquired Blathers, turning to the doctor.
‘What a precious muddle-headed chap you are!’ said Duff, addressing Mr. Giles, with supreme contempt.