The Black Box Part 22

"Well, young lady," he said, "have you thought of something I can do?"

She took no notice of the chair to which he pointed, and rested her hand upon his shoulder.

"Professor," she begged, "go and see Mr. Quest! He is in the Tombs prison.

It would be the kindest thing any one could possibly do."

The Professor glanced regretfully at his ma.n.u.script, but he did not hesitate. He rose promptly to his feet.

"If you think he would appreciate it, I will go at once," he decided.

Her face shone with grat.i.tude.

"That is really very kind of you, Professor," she declared.

"I will send for my coat and we will go together, if you like," he suggested.

She smiled.

"I am going the other way, back to Georgia Square," she explained. "No, please don't ring. I can find my own way out."

She hurried from the room. Outside in the hall she paused, for a moment, listening with beating heart. By the side wall was a hat rack with branching pegs, from which several coats were hanging. She slipped quietly behind their shelter. Presently the Professor came out of the room.

"My coat, please, Craig," she heard him say.

Her heart sank. Craig was coming in her direction. Her discovery seemed certain. Then, as his hand was half stretched out to remove one of the garments, she heard the Professor's voice.

"I think that I shall walk, Craig. I have been so much upset to-day that the exercise will do me good. I will have the light coat from my bedroom."

For a moment the shock of relief was so great that she almost lost consciousness. A moment or two later she heard the Professor leave the house. Very cautiously she stole out from her hiding place. The hall was empty. She crossed it with noiseless footsteps, slipped into the study and moved stealthily to the fireplace. There was a little heap of ashes in one distinct spot. She gathered them up in her handkerchief and secreted it in her dress. Then she moved hurriedly towards the door and stepped quietly behind the curtain. She stood there listening intently. Craig was doing something in the hall. Even while she was hesitating, the door was opened.

He came in and moved towards his master's table. Through a c.h.i.n.k in the curtain she could see that he was stooping down, collecting some letters.

She stole out, ran down the hall, opened the front door and hastened down the avenue. Her heart was beating quickly. The front door handle had slipped from her fingers, and it seemed to her that she could hear even now the slam with which it had swung to. At the gates she looked back.

There were no signs of life. The house still bore its customary appearance, gloomy and deserted. With a sigh of relief, she hailed a taxicab and sank back into the corner.

She found Laura waiting for her, and a few minutes afterwards the two girls were examining the ashes with the aid of Quest's microscope. Among the little pile was one fragment at the sight of which they both exclaimed. It was distinctly a shred of charred muslin embroidery. Lenora pointed towards it triumphantly.

"Isn't that evidence?" she demanded. "Let's ring up Inspector French!"

Laura shook her head doubtfully.

"Not so fast," she advised. "French is a good sort in his way, but he's prejudiced just now against the boss. I'm not sure that this evidence would go far by itself."

"It's evidence enough for us to go for Craig, though! What we have got to do is to get a confession out of him, somehow!"

Laura studied her companion, for a moment, curiously.

"Taking some interest in Mr. Quest, kid, ain't you?"

Lenora looked up. Then her head suddenly sank into her hands. She knew quite well that her secret had escaped her. Laura patted her shoulder.

"That's all right, child," she said soothingly. "We'll see him through this, somehow or other."

"You don't mind?" Lenora faltered, without raising her eyes.

"Not I," she replied promptly. "I'm not looking for trouble of that sort."

Lenora raised her head. There was an immense relief in her face.

"I am so glad," she said. "I was afraid sometimes--living here with him, you know--"

Laura interrupted her with an easy laugh.

"You don't need to worry," she a.s.sured her.

Lenora rose to her feet. She was quite herself again. There was a new look of determination in her face.

"Laura," she exclaimed, "we will save Mr. Quest and we will get hold of Craig! I have a plan. Listen."

2.

Craig's surprise was real enough as he opened the back door of the Professor's house on the following morning and found Lenora standing on the threshold.

"I am very sorry, Miss Lenora," he apologised. "The front door bell must be out of order. I certainly didn't hear it ring. Mr. Ashleigh is in his study, if you wish to see him."

Lenora smiled pleasantly.

"To tell you the truth," she said, "I really do not want to see him,--at least, not just yet. I came to this door because I wanted a little talk with you."

Craig's att.i.tude was perfect. He was mystified, but he remained respectful.

"Will you come inside?" he invited.

She shook her head.

"I am afraid," she confided, "of what I am going to say being overheard.

Come with me down to the garage for a moment."

She pointed to the wooden building which stood about fifty yards away from the house. Craig hesitated.

"If you wish it, miss," he a.s.sented doubtfully. "I will get the keys."

He disappeared for a moment and came out again almost immediately afterwards with a bunch of keys in his hand. He seemed a little disturbed.

"I am doing as you wish, Miss Lenora," he said, "but there is n.o.body about here likely to overhear, and I have no secrets from my master."

"Perhaps not," Lenora replied, "but I have. The Professor is a dear," she added hastily, "but he is too wrapped up in his scientific work to be able to see things like men of ordinary common-sense."

"That is quite true," Craig admitted. "Mr. Ashleigh has only one idea in his life.... This way, then, if you please, miss."