“That’s the truth,” assured the other. “My voice has always been the discomfort of my life. For years it branded me as a curiosity wherever I went. I consulted many throat specialists and they informed me that the trouble rested in the roof of my mouth. That’s what caused the squeak. An operation, they said, wouldn’t do any good. My voice was otherwise naturally heavy.
“Well, one specialist observed that several of my molars had been extracted and suggested a remedy. He said that a plate could be made to hold some false teeth and at the same time alter the acoustics of my mouth in such a manner as to stop the squeak. I consented to the plan, and the plate was made. It was a success.
“When I jumped from the wrecked ship, I got my mouth full of sea water and nearly strangled. While struggling to catch my breath I coughed the plate out and it sank while my voice rose to a high pitch again. Does that explain the mystery?”
“Perfectly,” replied Guy. “Thank you very much. That’s an interesting story; I’ll tell it to the others and quiet their curiosity.”
Guy found his brother and Watson and Glennon again and told them of his interview.
“That may be a straight story,” said Watson. “I’m glad to get it. But I wonder he didn’t say that the plate in his mouth was a wireless plate.”
Walter, Guy, and Glennon laughed at this remark.
“This is a good time for general explanation of mysteries, isn’t it?” Guy suggested. “There are several matters I’d like to have you explain, just for entertainment.”
“Fire away,” said Watson. “I suppose for one thing you’d like to know where I got the key to your stateroom door.”
“Then you were the burglar, after all?”