"I am afraid, my friend," he said, "that Craig's nerve has failed him. A
voluntary surrender was perhaps too much to hope for."
Quest smoked for a moment in silence.
"Can't understand those fellows letting him give them the slip," he
muttered. "He ought to have been under close surveillance from the moment
he set foot in New York. What's that?" he added, turning to the door.
His servant entered, bearing a note.
"This was left a few minutes ago, sir," he announced, "by a messenger boy.
There was no answer required."
The man retired and Quest unfolded the sheet of paper. His expression
suddenly changed.
"Listen!" he exclaimed.
To Sanford Quest.
Gather your people in Professor Ashleigh's library at ten
o'clock to-night. I will be there and tell you my whole story.
JOHN CRAIG.
The Professor sat for a moment speechless.
"Then he meant it, after all!" he exclaimed at last.
"Seems like it," Quest admitted. "I'll just telephone to French."
The Professor rose to his feet, knocked the ash from his cigar, struggled
into his coat, and took up his hat. Then he waited until Quest had
completed his conversation. The latter's face had grown grave and puzzled.
It was obvious that he was receiving information of some importance. He
put down the instrument at last with a curt word of farewell.
"Let me send a couple of men up with you, Professor," he begged. "You
don't want to run any risk of having Craig there before we arrive.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342