"Won't you want me?"
He shook his head.
"I think you girls have had as much as is good for you of this sort of
business," he declared grimly.
"But it's all over now," Lenora protested.
Quest buttoned up his coat and motioned to French to follow him.
"I'm not so sure," he said. "I'll 'phone if we want you, Lenora. We shall
be at the Professor's."
The two men drove to the outskirts of the city almost in silence, while
several of the officers followed in another taxi. The Professor's house
seemed more than ever deserted as they drew up at the front door. They
entered without ringing and crossed the hall towards the library. On the
threshold Quest paused and held up his finger.
"Some one is in there," he whispered, stepping quickly forward. "Come!"
He threw open the door. The room was empty, yet both Quest and French were
conscious of a curious conviction that it had been occupied within the
last few seconds. French even shook out the curtains and swung open the
doors of a bureau. There was no sign of anybody, however, nor any evidence
as to how they could have left the room.
"Queer, but it seemed to me I heard some one," French muttered.
"I was sure of it," Quest replied, shaking the curtains at the back of the
door.
They stood still for a moment and listened. The silence in the empty house
was almost unnatural. Quest turned away with a shrug of the shoulders.
"At any rate," he said, "Craig's dying thoughts must have been truthful.
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