"Only this!"
Quest opened it and read it through. It was from the Sheriff of a small
town in Connecticut:--
"The men you enquired for are both here. They have sold an
automobile and seem to be spending the proceeds. Shall I
arrest?"
Quest studied the message for a moment.
"Say, this is rather interesting, Professor," he remarked.
"Really?" the latter replied tartly. "You must forgive me if I cannot
follow the complications of your--pardon me for saying Munchausen-like
affairs. How does the arrest of these two men help you?"
"Don't you see?" Quest explained. "These are the two thugs who set upon me
up at the section house. They killed the signalman, who could have been my
alibi, and swiped my car, in which, as it cannot be found, French supposes
that I returned to New York. With their arrest the case against me
collapses. I tell you frankly, Professor," Quest continued, frowning, "I
hate to leave the city without having found that girl; but I am not sure
that the quickest way to set things right would not be to go down, arrest
these men and bring them back here, clear myself, and then go tooth and
nail for Craig."
"I agree with you most heartily," the Professor declared. "I recommend any
course which will ensure the return of my man Craig."
"I cannot promise you that you will ever have Craig here again," Quest
observed grimly. "I rather fancy Sing-Sing will be his next home."
"Don't be foolish, Mr. Quest," the Professor advised.
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