"If you don't keep still and discuss this matter," cried Captain White, falling into sudden excitement, "I'll give you a walloping compared with which our little play the other day would be but the breath of a suggestion. Keep still, you idiot. You've got the day before you, and I'm on your side. I vow to you, you sha'n't leave French Cross till you lay your hand on that man's shoulder."
H. Robinson sulkily lowered himself into a chair.
"First and foremost, I'm not bamboozling you. Lancaster is here. He wanted to have a talk with Miss Gastonguay, and she's taken him out in her steam yacht."
H. Robinson put his hands up to his head and clutched his scanty side locks.
"They're coming back, they're coming back. I'll stake all I have on it. You wait here. I'll wait with you."
"I must go out on the river," said the detective, in a hollow voice. "I must follow."
"Hold on," ejaculated Captain White, pushing him back on his seat. Then he opened the door.
"Gordon, Gordon, come here."
The chief of police came hurrying to the spot.
"Look here," said Captain White, "tell that man I'm not a fake."