“Perhaps I am,” the latter confessed. “Still, you must remember that the scientific world on those few occasions when I do appear in public, expects much of me. My sense of proportion may perhaps be disarranged by this knowledge. All that I can realise at the present moment, is this. You seem to have frightened away the one man in the world who is indispensable to me.”
Quest smoked in silence for a moment.
“Any mail for me, Professor?” he asked, abruptly.
The Professor opened a drawer and handed him a telegram.
“Only this!”
Quest opened it and read it through. It was from the Sheriff of a small town in Connecticut:—
“The men you enquired for are both here. They have sold an automobile and seem to be spending the proceeds. Shall I arrest?”
Quest studied the message for a moment.
“Say, this is rather interesting, Professor,” he remarked.
“Really?” the latter replied tartly. “You must forgive me if I cannot follow the complications of your—pardon me for saying Munchausen-like affairs. How does the arrest of these two men help you?”