“How can I convince you of the truth? Doyle will support my story. You were thrown into the water when our boat accidentally upset. You may have struck your head on a rock or submerged log. I know you failed to come to the surface. Doyle and I searched as long as we dared.”
“And did I lock myself in the lodge?”
“No,” admitted Rascomb, smiling faintly. “Fleur shut you up there.”
“Fleur?” questioned the captain.
“My caretaker. Evans raved so much and told such an outlandish story that Fleur considered him out of his head. He locked him up and telephoned me. I immediately ordered his release.”
“Your story is very smooth,” said Flash, “but there’s one little detail you can’t gloss over. How about that scar on your cheek?”
“I have no scar.”
“Prove it,” Flash challenged. “Take off those bandages!”
Mr. Gordon spoke with exasperation.
“We are trying to be patient. You make it most difficult. In returning to Excelsior City this evening from his hunting lodge, Mr. Rascomb was in a motor accident. Hence the bandages.”