If we had been in the room ten
seconds sooner--"
He paused significantly. Then he swung round on his heel. Craig, a now
pitiful object, his hands nervously twitching, his face ghastly, was
cowering in the background.
"Your last little effort, Craig?" he demanded sternly.
Craig made no reply. The Professor, who had disappeared for a moment, came
back to them.
"There is a smaller room across the hall," he said, "which will do for our
purpose."
Craig suddenly turned and faced them.
"I have changed my mind," he said. "I have nothing to tell you. Do what
you will with me. Take me to the Tombs, deal with me any way you choose,
but I have nothing to say."
French smiled a little grimly.
"We may make you change your mind when we get you there," he remarked.
"No one will ever make me change my mind," the man replied. "This is my
last word."
Quest pointed a threatening finger at him.
"Your last voluntary word, perhaps," he said, "but science is still your
master, Craig. Science has brought many criminals to their doom. It shall
take its turn with you. Bring him along, French, to my study. There is a
way of dealing with him."
* * * * *
Quest felt his forehead and found it damp. There were dark rims under his
eyes. Before him was Craig, with a little band around his forehead and the
mirror where they could all see it. The Professor stood a little in the
background. Laura and French were side by side, gazing with distended eyes
at the blank mirror, and Lenora was doing her best to soothe the terrified
niece.
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