80
THE SURAKARTA
o'clock this morning, when he made his call on me at this office, I had been wounded in my left hand, his suspicions appeared to become certainties."
"He was not satisfied, then, with the explanation you gave him of the nature of your wound?" McAdams had looked up in surprise.
"The wound is a gunshot wound."
"I mean, he would not accept the proof you must have offered him that you had been wounded in some other way than by his bullet?"
"I offered no such proof."
McAdams and Max both stared at Hereford in amazement. The young trustee, on his part, for the first time found difficulty in formulating what he had to say.
"I offered no proof," he repeated even
