"I'll do more than that, Skipper," said Warren, eagerly. "I'll tell you the name of the son of a bachelor who's got that emerald right now."
"Eh?"
"Yes. I'll give it to you straight from the table. And the man who's got that emerald at this very minute," announced Warren, leaning over and pointing his finger in the captain's face, "is none other than the dastardly crook who's masquerading on this boat as Doctor Oliver Harrison Kyle."
Morgan's spirit, uttering a deep groan, rose from his body and flapped out the porthole on riddled wings. He thought: It's all up now. This is the end. The old mackerel will utter one whoop, go mad, and call for assistance. Morgan expected many strange, possibly intricate observations from the captain. He expected him to order a strait-waistcoat. He expected, in fact, every conceivable thing except what actually happened. For fully a minute Whistler stared, his handkerchief at his forehead.
"You, too?" he said. "You think so, too?" His voice awed. "Out of the mouths of babes and — and lunatics. But wait. I forgot to show you. That was why I wanted you here. I don't believe it. I can't believe it. But when even the maniacs can see it, I've got to hard my helm. Besides, it may not mean that. I don't believe it. I'm going insane myself. Here! Here! Read this!" He whirled to his desk and rummaged. "This was what I wanted you to see. It came this morning."
He held out a radiogram, delicately scented with Swat Number 2 Instantaneous Insect Exterminator, and handed it to Morgan.
Commander, S.S. Queen Victoria, at sea [it ran]. Federal agent reports unknown man picked up supposedly dying Chevy Chase outside Washington March 25. Thought victim auto accident concussion of brain. No identification no papers or marks in clothing. Patient rushed to Mercy Hospital in coma. Two weeks delirious until yesterday. Still incoherent but claims to be person aboard your ship. Federal agent thinks crook responsible Stelly and MacGee jobs. Federal agent thinks also physician is impostor on your ship. Well-known figure and must be no mistake made or trouble, and medical profession influential care all sides…
Morgan whistled. Warren uttered an exclamation of triumph as he read the message across the other's shoulder. "You've come to that, have you?" demanded Captain Whistler. "If that message is right, I don't know what to think. There's no other physician than Dr. Kyle aboard the ship — except the ship's doctor, and he's been with me seven years."
Will not be definite case trouble. Arrest nobody yet. Am sending man Inspector Patrick knows accused personally. Patrick sailed S.S. Etrusca arrive Southampton one day before you. Afford him facilities. Advise. Arnold, Commissioner N.Y.P.D.
"Ha-ha!" said Warren. He threw out his chest. He took the radiogram from Morgan and flourished it over his head. "Now say I'm crazy, Skipper! Go on, say it — if you can. By God! I knew I was right. I had him figured out… " "How?" demanded Captain Whistler. Warren stopped, his mouth slightly open. They all saw the open trap into which, with cheers and wide eyes, Warren had deliberately walked. To tell why he thought Dr. Kyle guilty was exactly the one thing he could not do. Morgan froze. He saw his companion's eyes assume a rather glassy look in the long silence…