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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Black Box"

Quite enough to unbalance any man of
ordinary nerves and temperament."
"The Professor himself is remarkably sane," Lenora observed.
"Precisely," Quest agreed, "but then, you see, his brain was big enough,
to start with. It could hold all there was for it to hold. It's like
pouring stuff into the wrong receptacle when a man like Craig tries to
follow him. However, that's only a theory. Here we are, and the front door
wide open. I wonder how our friend's feeling to-day."
They found the Professor on his hands and knees upon a dusty floor.
Carefully arranged before him were the bones of a skeleton, each laid in
some appointed place. He had a chart on either side of him, and a third
one on an easel. He looked up a little impatiently at the sound of the
opening of the door, but when he recognised Quest and his companion the
annoyance passed from his face.
"Are we disturbing you, Mr. Ashleigh?" Quest enquired.
The Professor rose to his feet and brushed the dust from his knees.
"I shall be glad of a rest," he said simply. "You see what I am doing? I
am trying to reconstruct from memory--and a little imagination,
perhaps--the important part of my missing skeleton. It's a wonderful
problem which those bones might have solved, if I had been able to place
them fairly before the scientists of the world. Do you understand much
about the human frame, Mr. Quest?"
Quest shook his head promptly.
"Still life doesn't interest me," he declared. "Bones are bones, after
all, you know.


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