The Professor, who was comfortably seated in Quest’s favourite easy-chair, glanced at his watch and shook his head.
“I am afraid, my friend,” he said, “that Craig’s nerve has failed him. A voluntary surrender was perhaps too much to hope for.”
Quest smoked for a moment in silence.
“Can’t understand those fellows letting him give them the slip,” he muttered. “He ought to have been under close surveillance from the moment he set foot in New York. What’s that?” he added, turning to the door.
His servant entered, bearing a note.
“This was left a few minutes ago, sir,” he announced, “by a messenger boy. There was no answer required.”
The man retired and Quest unfolded the sheet of paper. His expression suddenly changed.
“Listen!” he exclaimed.
To Sanford Quest.
Gather your people in Professor Ashleigh’s library at ten o’clock to-night. I will be there and tell you my whole story.
John Craig.
The Professor sat for a moment speechless.