Virginia knew how.
With a fetching smile on her face Virginia entered the police hospital and asked for the police physician. Doctor Mason came and was a bit set back by the obviously high quality of his caller.
"You're—?"
"Virginia Wells. I'm a friend of Mr. Bronson."
"Indeed? A peculiar case, Miss Wells," he observed gravely.
"Not at all," she said with a smile. "Mr. Bronson, as a hobby, has been writing fiction and we got into an argument as to whether high authority could hear a rather bizarre tale without thinking the story teller was insane. I won."
"So that's it," grunted Doctor Mason. "He sounded sincere enough to me."
Virginia shrugged shapely shoulders and hurled at him the dazzle of her smile. "After all," she said in an entrancing contralto, "he is a successful author even though he doesn't work at it one hundred percent of the time. He should be able to concoct a story that would hold water, and he should be convincing. Why, that's his business!"
"Um."
Mason left the office for a moment and came back with Bronson at his heels—dressed.