"I fear
that I should only be a bungler in your profession, Mr. Quest, but if
there is anything I can do to help you to discover her whereabouts, you
can count upon me. Personally, I am convinced that Craig will return to me
with some plausible explanation as to what has happened. In that case he
will doubtless bring news of the young lady."
Quest, for the third or fourth time, moved cautiously towards the window.
His expression suddenly changed. He glanced downwards, frowning slightly.
An alert light flashed into his eyes.
"They're after me!" he exclaimed. "Sit still, Professor."
He darted into his room and reappeared again almost immediately. The
Professor gave a gasp of astonishment at his altered appearance. His tweed
suit seemed to have been turned inside out. There were no lapels now and
it was buttoned up to his neck. He wore a long white apron; a peaked cap
and a chin-piece of astonishing naturalness had transformed him into the
semblance of a Dutch grocer's boy.
"I'm off, Professor," Quest whispered. "You shall hear from me soon. I
have not been here, remember!"
He ran lightly down the steps and into the kitchen, picked up a basket,
filled it haphazard with vegetables and threw a cloth over the top. Then
he made his way to the front door, peered out for a moment, swung through
it on to the step, and, turning round, commenced to belabour it with his
fist. Two plain-clothes men stood at the end of the street. A police
automobile drew up outside the gate.
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