“I have not died that I am aware of, mother. Who told you I was dead?”
“Mr. Trimble and—this gentleman,” looking at Floyd. “He told me he saw you drowned in New York Bay.”
Edward regarded Floyd with curiosity.
“I haven’t any recollection of ever seeing the gentleman,” he said. “I don’t know him.”
“How do you explain this, Mr. Floyd?” asked Mrs. Trimble, suspiciously.
Floyd tried to speak, but faltered and stammered. He was in a very awkward position, and he realized it. Abner Trimble came to his assistance.
“You must have been mistaken, Floyd,” he said. “The young man you saw drowned must have been a stranger.”
“Yes,” returned Floyd, grasping the suggestion. “Of course I must have been mistaken. The young man I saw bore a wonderful resemblance to Mr. Granger.”
“How long is it since you saw me drowned, Mr. Floyd?” asked Edward.
“About three weeks,” answered Floyd, in an embarrassed tone.