The criminologist shook his head.
“Incomprehensible,” he confessed. “Can you think, by-the-bye, of any other motive for the theft besides scientific jealousy?”
“There could be no other,” the Professor declared sadly, “and it is, alas! too prevalent. I have had to suffer from it all my life.”
Quest stood over the box for a moment or two and looked once more out of the window. Presently Lenora returned. She carried in her hand a small object, which she brought silently to Quest. He glanced at it in perplexity. The Professor peered over his shoulder.
“It is the little finger!” he cried,—“the little finger of my ape!”
Quest held it away from him critically.
“From which hand?” he asked.
“The right hand.”
Quest examined the fastenings of the window before which he had paused during his previous examination. He turned away with a shrug of the shoulders.
“See you later, Mr. Ashleigh,” he concluded laconically. “Nothing more to be done at present.”