"Perhaps he suspects already," he said. "I've been told he's a clever fellow—in fact, he's proved it once or twice."
"Suppose he does suspect—what shall we do?"
"Convince him to the contrary. Where's Scaddam?"
"In his room, I suppose."
"Better send for him."
"May I come out?" inquired a voice from the inner room.
"Yes, come ahead," called Collins, and Vernon reappeared. "Now, my friend," he continued rapidly, "you'd better go in and put on your war-togs." Vernon groaned. "Put 'em on thick. I believe Markeld suspects the trick we're playing, and we've got to fool him—we've got to show him what a sick man you are."
"How could he suspect?" demanded Vernon, incredulously. "Even if he saw me, he couldn't recognise me—he doesn't know me."
"Perhaps those girls have already given you away."
"Nonsense! You fellows are afraid of your own shadows. He can't suspect!"