Sanford Quest was smoking his after breakfast cigar with a relish somewhat
affected by the measure of his perplexities. Early though it was, Lenora
was already in her place, bending over her desk, and Laura, who had just
arrived, was busy divesting herself of her coat and hat. Quest watched the
latter impatiently.
"Well?" he asked.
Laura came forward, straightening her hair with her hands.
"No go," she answered. "I spent the evening in the club and I talked with
two men who knew Craig, but I couldn't get on to anything. From all I
could hear of the man, respectability is his middle name."
"That's the Professor's own idea," Quest remarked grimly. "I merely
ventured to drop a hint that Craig might not be quite so immaculate as he
seemed, and I never saw a man so horrified in my life. He assured me that
Craig was seldom out of his sight, that he hadn't a friend in the world
nor a single vicious taste."
"We're fairly up against it, boss," Laura sighed. "The best thing we can
do is to get on to another job. The Rheinholdt woman has got her jewels
back, or will have at noon to-day. I bet she won't worry about the thief.
Then the Professor's mouldy old skeleton was returned to him, even if it
was burnt up afterwards. I should take on something fresh."
"Can't be done," Quest replied shortly. "Look here, girls, your average
intellects are often apt to hit upon the truth, when a man who sees too
far ahead goes wrong. Rule Craig out. Any other possible person occur to
you?--Speak out, Lenora.
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