Rascomb arose painfully, and taking a step forward, extended his hand.
“I met Doyle downstairs a few minutes ago,” he explained. “He told me of your miraculous escape from the fire! I can’t make you understand the feeling which went over me.”
“You are an excellent actor,” Flash retorted, ignoring the proffered hand. “But I don’t doubt you were surprised to learn I was in Excelsior City. You thought you had taken care of me for several days at least!”
“My dear young man,” Rascomb said soothingly, “you seem to be laboring under some delusion. Doyle warned me, but I found it most difficult to believe.”
“Let’s sit down and talk this over in a sensible way,” interposed Mr. Gordon. “Through Mr. Doyle we have learned that Evans here has been making false and libelous accusations against Mr. Rascomb.”
“False!” exclaimed Flash angrily. “I can prove every statement I’ve made!”
“You most certainly will be given the opportunity,” the lawyer said. “Possibly in court.”
“Now I don’t want to be too hard on you, Evans,” spoke Rascomb quietly. “You have gone through an ordeal tonight, enough to break an iron man. Slight wonder you became confused and thought your friends were enemies.”
“So I imagined that you struck me over the head with an oar? And later that you locked me in the cabin?”
Rascomb gazed despairingly at Captain Johns. Turning to Flash once more, he said: