“I’ll take your word for it,” offered Kennedy.
“I’ll give it.”
I must say that I rather liked the young chap, although I could make nothing out of him.
As Dana Phelps disappeared down the road, Andrews turned to Kennedy. “What did you do that for?” he asked, half critically.
“Because we can watch him, anyway,” answered Craig, with a significant glance at the now empty casket. “Have him shadowed, Andrews. It may lead to something and it may not. But in any case don’t let him get out of reach.”
“Here we are in a worse mystery than ever,” grumbled Andrews. “We have caught a prisoner, but the body is gone, and we can’t even show that he was an accomplice.”
“What were you writing?” I asked Craig, endeavouring to change the subject to one more promising.
“Just copying the peculiar shape of those marks on Phelps’ arm. Perhaps we can improve on the finger-print method of identification. Those were the marks of human teeth.”
He was glancing casually at his sketch as he displayed it to us. I wondered whether he really expected to obtain proof of the identity of at least one of the ghouls by the tooth-marks.
“It shows eight teeth, one of them decayed,” he remarked. “By the way, there’s no use watching here any longer. I have some more work to do in the laboratory which will keep me another day. To-morrow night I shall be ready. Andrews, in the mean time I leave the shadowing of Dana to you, and with the help of Jameson I want you to arrange to have all those connected with the case at my laboratory to-morrow night without fail.”