“Whose cranks?”
“My sister Darda’s.”
“Has she revealed the hiding-place?”
“She has known it all along, from near the time when she first brought the deadly thing into her collection.”
“Now, Dennis, will you craze me by assuming so much of intuition on my part? Out with it all, man! To what are you alluding?”
“To it, sir—that gallows relic.”
“The skull, do you mean?”
“Yes, yes,” was the low answer.
“And what of it?”
“It is hid therein.”