"I see now how he did it. Wait. I'll show
you."
They stood quite still, a little terrified. In a moment or two the door
reopened. A finger turned out all the electric lights but one. Then there
was nothing to be seen but a pair of white hands, which seemed to come
floating towards them through the darkness--a pair of white hands and a
pair of gleaming eyes. Lenora screamed wildly. Even Laura was unnerved.
"Stop that!" she cried out. "Who are you, anyway?"
The lights were suddenly turned on. Quest threw off his disguise.
"There you are," he exclaimed triumphantly. "Ingenious, but one ought to
have seen through it long ago. The stroke of genius about it was that as
soon as he had used a dodge once or twice and set you thinking about it,
he dropped it."
The door was suddenly opened and French entered.
"Beaten!" he exclaimed tersely.
"You haven't found him?" Quest asked.
French shook his head.
"We've searched every room, every cupboard, every scrap of the cellar in
the house," he announced. "We've been into every corner of the grounds,
searched all the place inside and out. There's no sign of the Professor."
Quest pocketed the diary.
"You're perfectly certain that he is not in this house or anywhere upon
the premises?"
"Certain sure!" French replied.
Quest shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, we'd better get back," he said. "You come, too, French. We'll sit
down and figure out some scheme for finding him."
They made their way to the front door and crowded into the autos.
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