"Come in, Mr. Quest. Let me introduce you to Mr. Francis, the curator of
the museum. Ask him what questions you will. Mr. Quest, you have the
opportunity of earning the undying gratitude of a brother scientist. If my
skeleton cannot be recovered, the work of years is undone."
Quest strolled thoughtfully around the room, glancing out of each of the
windows in turn. He kept close to the wall, and when he had finished he
drew out a magnifying-glass from his pocket and made a brief examination
of the box. Then he asked a few questions of the curator, pointed out one
of the windows to Lenora and whispered a few directions to her. She at
once produced what seemed to be a foot-rule from the bag which she was
carrying, and hurried into the garden.
"A little invention of my own for measuring foot-prints," Quest explained.
"Not much use here, I am afraid."
"What do you think of the affair so far, Mr. Quest?" the Professor asked
eagerly.
The criminologist shook his head.
"Incomprehensible," he confessed. "Can you think, by-the-bye, of any other
motive for the theft besides scientific jealousy?"
"There could be no other," the Professor declared sadly, "and it is, alas!
too prevalent. I have had to suffer from it all my life."
Quest stood over the box for a moment or two and looked once more out of
the window. Presently Lenora returned. She carried in her hand a small
object, which she brought silently to Quest. He glanced at it in
perplexity. The Professor peered over his shoulder.
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