"That is fair enough," the captain said, a shrewd expression coming into his face.
"Suppose you take it for granted, for a few minutes, that I am innocent, and tell me when Rufus Shepley was killed, and where, and just how."
"Very well, Mr. Prale. A hotel attendant found the body at an early hour this morning. It was in Mr. Shepley's room. The man was fully dressed. The physicians say that he was killed about eleven o'clock last night."
"I understand; go on, please."
"He had been stabbed through the heart," said the captain. "Death had been instantaneous."
"But why suspect me of the crime?" Prale asked.
"This was found beside the body," the captain replied.
From the desk before him he picked up a fountain pen. It was an elaborate pen, chased with gold, and on one side of it was a tiny gold plate, upon which Prale's name had been engraved.
"You recognize it?" the captain asked.
"Certainly; it is mine."