“No news of Craig, then?” Quest demanded.
“None at all,” was the weary reply. “What about your young lady assistant?”
“She’ll be here in five minutes,” Quest told him. “You had better come along and hear her story. It ought to interest you.”
“Dear me!” the Professor exclaimed. “I will certainly come—certainly!”
Quest set down the receiver and paced the room thoughtfully for a moment or two. Although his own troubles were almost over, the main problem before him was as yet unsolved. The affair with the Gallaghers was, after all, only an off-shoot. It was the mystery of Lenora’s abduction, the mystery of the black box, which still called for the exercise of all his ingenuity.
Inspector French was as good, even better, than his word. In a surprisingly short time he entered the room, followed by Laura and Lenora. Quest gave them a hand each, but it was into Lenora’s eyes that he looked. Her coming, her few words of greeting, timid though they were, brought him an immense sense of relief.
“Well, girls,” he said, “both full of adventures, eh? What did they do with you in the Tombs, Laura?”
“Pshaw! What could they do?” Laura replied. “If they’re guys enough to be tricked by a girl, the best thing they can do is to keep mum about it and let her go. That’s about what they did to me.”
Inspector French, who was standing a little aloof, regarded Laura with an air of unwilling admiration.
“That’s some girl, that Miss Laura,” he muttered in an undertone to Quest. “She roasted us nicely.”