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Vera cried:

‘Another night in this place!’

Lombard shrugged his shoulders.

‘May as well face it! Twenty-four hours will do it, I think. If we can last out that, we’ll be all right.’

Blore cleared his throat. He said:

‘We’d better come to a clear understanding. What’s happened to Armstrong?

Lombard said:

‘Well, we’ve got one piece of evidence. Only three little soldier boys left on the dinner-table. It looks as though

Armstrong had got his quietus.’

Vera said:

‘Then why haven’t you found his dead body?’

Blore said:

‘Exactly.’

Lombard shook his head. He said:

‘It’s damned odd—no getting over it.’

Blore said doubtfully:

‘It might have been thrown into the sea.’

Lombard said sharply:

‘By whom? You? Me? You saw him go out of the front door. You come along and find me in my room. We go out and search together. When the devil had I time to kill him and carry his body round the island?’

Blore said:

‘I don’t know. But I do know one thing.’

Lombard said:

‘What’s that?’

Blore said:

‘The revolver. It was your revolver. It’s in your possession now. There’s nothing to show that it hasn’t been in your possession all along.’

‘Come now, Blore, we were all searched.’

‘Yes, you’d hidden it away before that happened. Afterwards you just took it back again.’

‘My good blockhead, I swear to you that it was put back in my drawer. Greatest surprise I ever had in my life when I found it there.’

Blore said:

‘You ask us to believe a thing like that! Why the devil should Armstrong, or anyone else for that matter, put it back?’

Lombard raised his shoulders hopelessly.

‘I haven’t the least idea. It’s just crazy. The last thing one would expect. There seems no point in it.’

Blore agreed.

‘No, there isn’t. You might have thought of a better story.’

‘Rather proof that I’m telling the truth, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t look at it that way.’

Philip said:

‘You wouldn’t.’

Blore said:

‘Look here, Mr Lombard, if you’re an honest man, as you pretend—’

Philip murmured:

‘When did I lay claims to being an honest man? No, indeed, I never said that.’

Blore went on stolidly:

‘If you’re speaking the truth—there’s only one thing to be done. As long as you have that revolver, Miss Claythorne and I are at your mercy. The only fair thing is to put that revolver with the other things that are locked up—and you and I will hold the two keys still.’

Philip Lombard lit a cigarette.

As he puffed smoke, he said:

‘Don’t be an ass.’

‘You won’t agree to that?’

‘No, I won’t. That revolver’s mine. I need it to defend myself— and I’m going to keep it.’

Blore said:

‘In that case we’re bound to come to one conclusion.’

‘That I’m U. N. Owen? Think what you damned well please. But I’ll ask you, if that’s so, why I didn’t pot you with the revolver last night? I could have, about twenty times over.’

Blore shook his head.

He said:

‘I don’t know—and that’s a fact. You must have had some reason.’

Vera had taken no part in the discussion. She stirred now and said: