He is a Glasgow merchant named Collins, and a very fine golf player.

He is staying at the Dormy House Club." "He has also another claim to distinction," Major Thomson remarked drily, "for he is the man who fired those lights.

The sergeant who shot him fancied that he heard voices on the creek, and crept up to the wall just before the flare came.

The sergeant, I may add, is under the impression that there were two men in the boat." Granet shook his head dubiously.
"I know nothing whatever of the man or his movements," he declared, "beyond what I have told you.

I have scarcely spoken a dozen words to him in my life, and never before our chance meeting at the Dormy House." "You do not, for instance, happen to know how he came here from the Dormy House ?" "If you mean did he come in my car," Granet answered easily, "please let me assure you that he did not.