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Her feelings carried her away. She threw herself at his feet. She was laughing and crying and talking incoherently, all at the same time. The Inspector a.s.sisted her to a chair.
"Say, what's all this mean?" he demanded.
She told him her story, incoherently, in broken phrases. French listened with puzzled frown.
"Say, what about Quest?" he asked. "He ain't been here at all, then?"
She looked at him wonderingly.
"Of course not! Mr. Quest--"
She hesitated. The Inspector laid his hand upon her wrist. Then he realised that she was on the point of a nervous breakdown, and in no condition for interrogations.
"That'll do," he said. "I'll take care of you for a time, young lady, and I'll ask you a few questions later on. My men are searching the house. You and I will be getting on, if you can tear yourself away."
She laughed hysterically and hurried him towards the door. As they pa.s.sed down the gloomy stairs she clung to his arm. The first breath of air seemed wonderful to her as they pa.s.sed out into the street. It was freedom!
The plain-clothes man, who was lounging in Quest's most comfortable easy-chair and smoking one of his best cigars, suddenly laid down his paper. He moved to the window. A large, empty automobile stood in the street outside, from which the occupants had presumably just descended. He hastened towards the door, which was opened, however, before he was half-way across the room. The cigar slipped from his fingers. It was Sanford Quest who stood there, followed by the Sheriff of Bethel, two country policemen, and Red Gallagher and his mate, heavily handcuffed.
Quest glanced at the cigar.
"Say, do you mind picking that up?" he exclaimed. "That carpet cost me money."
The plain-clothes man obeyed at once. Then he edged a little towards the telephone. Quest had opened his cigar cabinet.
"Glad you've left me one or two," he remarked drily.
"Say, aren't you wanted down yonder, Mr. Quest?" the man enquired.
"That's all right now," Quest told him. "I'm ringing up Inspector French myself. You'd better stand by the other fellows there and keep your eye on Red Gallagher and his mate."
"I guess Mr. Quest is all right," the Sheriff intervened. "We're ringing up headquarters ourselves, anyway."
The plain-clothes man did as he was told. Quest took up the receiver from his telephone instrument and arranged the phototelesme.
"Police-station Number One, central," he said,--"through to Mr. French's office, if you please. Mr. Quest wants to speak to him. Yes, Sanford Quest. No need to get excited!... All right. I'm through, am I?... Hullo, Inspector?"
A rare expression of joy suddenly transfigured Quest's face. He was gazing downward into the little mirror.
"You've found Lenora, then, Inspector?" he exclaimed. "Bully for you!...
What do I mean? What I say! You forget that I am a scientific man, French.
No end of appliances here you haven't had time to look at. I can see you sitting there, and Lenora and Laura looking as though you had them on the rack. You can drop that, French. I've got Red Gallagher and his mate, got them here with the Sheriff of Bethel. They went off with my auto and sold it. We've got that. Also, in less than five minutes my chauffeur will be here. He's been lying in a farmhouse, unconscious, since that sc.r.a.p. He can tell you what time he saw me last. Bring the girls along, French--and hurry!"
Quest hung up the receiver.
"I've given Inspector French something to think about," he remarked, as he turned away. "Now, Mr. Sheriff, if you can make yourself at home for a quarter of an hour or so, French will be here and take these fellows off your hands. I've still a little more telephoning to do."
"You go right ahead," the Sheriff acquiesced.
Quest rang up the Professor. His response to the call was a little languid, and his reception of the news of Quest's successful enterprise was almost querulous.
"My friend," the Professor said, "your news gratifies me, of course. Your rehabilitation, however, was a matter of certainty. With me life has become a chaos. You can have no idea, with your independent nature, what it means to entirely rely upon the ministrations of one person and to be suddenly deprived of their help."
"No news of Craig, then?" Quest demanded.
"None at all," was the weary reply. "What about your young lady a.s.sistant?"
"She'll be here in five minutes," Quest told him. "You had better come along and hear her story. It ought to interest you."
"Dear me!" the Professor exclaimed. "I will certainly come--certainly!"
Quest set down the receiver and paced the room thoughtfully for a moment or two. Although his own troubles were almost over, the main problem before him was as yet unsolved. The affair with the Gallaghers was, after all, only an off-shoot. It was the mystery of Lenora's abduction, the mystery of the black box, which still called for the exercise of all his ingenuity.
Inspector French was as good, even better, than his word. In a surprisingly short time he entered the room, followed by Laura and Lenora.
Quest gave them a hand each, but it was into Lenora's eyes that he looked.
Her coming, her few words of greeting, timid though they were, brought him an immense sense of relief.
"Well, girls," he said, "both full of adventures, eh? What did they do with you in the Tombs, Laura?"
"Pshaw! What could they do?" Laura replied. "If they're guys enough to be tricked by a girl, the best thing they can do is to keep mum about it and let her go. That's about what they did to me."
Inspector French, who was standing a little aloof, regarded Laura with an air of unwilling admiration.
"That's some girl, that Miss Laura," he muttered in an undertone to Quest.
"She roasted us nicely."
"I mustn't stop to hear your story, Lenora," Quest said. "You're safe--that's the great thing."
"Found her in an empty house," French reported, "out Gayson Avenue way.
Now, Mr. Quest, I don't want to come the official over you too much, but if you'll kindly remember that you're an escaped prisoner--"
There was a knock at the door. A young man entered in chauffeur's livery, with his head still bandaged. Quest motioned him to come in.
"I'll just repeat my story of that morning, French," Quest said. "We went out to find Macdougal, and succeeded, as you know. Just as I was starting for home, those two thugs set upon me. They nearly did me up. You know how I made my escape. They went off in my automobile and sold it in Bethel. I arrested them there myself this morning. Here's the Sheriff, who will bear out what I say, also that they arrived at the place in my automobile."
"Sure!" the Sheriff murmured.
"Further," Quest continued, "there's my chauffeur. He knows exactly what time it was when the tire of my car blew out, just as we were starting for New York."
"It was eleven-ten, sir," the chauffeur declared. "Mr. Quest and I both took out our watches to see if we could make New York by mid-day. Then one of those fellows. .h.i.t me over the head and I've been laid up ever since. A man who keeps a store a little way along the road picked me up and looked after me."
Inspector French held out his hand.
"Mr. Quest," he said, "I reckon we'll have to withdraw the case against you. No hard feeling, I hope?"
"None at all," Quest replied promptly, taking his hand.
"That's all right, then," French declared. "I've brought two more men with me. Perhaps, Mr. Sheriff, you wouldn't mind escorting your prisoners around to headquarters? I'll be there before long."