"Give me your left wrist, Craig," he said quietly.
The man slunk away. There was a sudden look of horror in his white face.
He started back but Quest was too quick for him. In a moment there was the
click of a handcuff, the mate of which was concealed under the
criminologist's cuff.
"You'd better take things quietly," the latter advised. "It will only hurt
you to struggle. Step this way a little. Put your hand in your pocket, so,
and no one will notice."
Craig obeyed silently. They stepped along the deck towards the rest of the
party. Lenora handed her glasses to Quest.
"Do look, Mr. Quest," she begged. "There is Inspector French standing in
the front row on the dock, with two enormous bunches of
flowers--carnations for me, I expect, and poinsettias for Laura. They're
the larger bunch."
Quest took the glasses and nodded.
"That's French, right enough," he assented. "Look at him standing
straightening his tie in front of that advertisement mirror! Flowers, too!
Say, he's got his eye on one of you girls. Not you, by any chance, is it,
Lenora?"
Lenora laughed across at Laura, who had turned a little pink.
"I guess French has got sense enough to know I'm not that sort," the
latter replied. "The double-harness stuff doesn't appeal to me, and he
knows it!"
Lenora made a little grimace as she turned away.
"Well," she said, "it's brave talk."
"Almost," the Professor pointed out, "Amazonian. Yet in the ancient days
even the Amazons were sometimes tamed.
Pages:
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286