Even as he accomplished this, the door was thrown open and a
crowd of people rushed in. Sanford Quest emerged, dusty but unhurt, and
touched a constable on his arm.
"Arrest me," he ordered. "I am Sanford Quest. I must be taken at once to
headquarters."
"That so, Mr. Quest? Stand on one side, you loafers," the man ordered,
pushing his way out.
"We'll have a taxicab," Quest decided.
"Is there any one else in the house?" the policeman asked.
"Not a soul," Quest answered.
They found a cab without much difficulty. It was five o'clock when they
reached the central police-station. Inspector French happened to be just
going off duty. He recognized Quest with a little exclamation.
"Got your man to bring me here," Quest explained, "so as to get away from
the mob."
"Say, you've been in trouble!" the Inspector remarked, leading the way
into his room.
"Bit of an explosion, that's all," Quest replied. "I shall be all right
when you've lent me a clothes-brush."
"The Ashleigh diamonds, eh?" the Inspector asked eagerly.
"I shall have them at nine o'clock this morning," Sanford Quest promised,
"and hand you over the murderer somewhere around midnight."
The Inspector scratched his chin.
"From what I can hear about the young lady's friends," he said, "it's the
murderer they are most anxious to see nabbed."
"They'll have him," Quest promised. "Come round about half-past nine and
I'll hand over the diamonds to start with."
Quest slept for a couple of hours, had a bath and made a leisurely toilet.
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