Hold prisoner. Charge very serious. Have
full warrants.'"
Lenora wrote down the message and went to the telephone to send it off. As
soon as she had finished, Quest took up his hat again.
"Come on," he invited. "The machine's outside. We'll just go and look in
on the Professor and tell him the news. Poor old chap, I'm afraid he'll
never be the same man again."
"He must miss Craig terribly," Lenora observed, as they took their places
in the automobile, "and yet, Mr. Quest, it does seem to me a most amazing
thing that a man so utterly callous and cruel as Craig must be, should
have been a devoted and faithful servant to anyone through all these
years."
Quest nodded.
"I am beginning to frame a theory about that. You see, all the time Craig
has lived with the Professor, he has been a sort of dabbler with him in
his studies. Where the Professor's gone right into a thing and understood
it, Craig, you see, hasn't managed to get past the first crust. His brain
wasn't educated enough for the subjects into the consideration of which
the Professor may have led him. See what I'm driving at?"
"You mean that he may have been mad?" Lenora suggested.
"Something of that sort," Quest assented. "Seems to me the only feasible
explanation. The Professor's a bit of a terror, you know. There are some
queer stories about the way he got some of his earlier specimens in South
America. Science is his god. What he has gone through in some of those
foreign countries, no one knows.
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