Cuccini took the key.
“All right,” he said ungraciously, “there are plenty of blankets here, boys—I guess you want us where the police won’t look, eh?”
“That is my intention,” replied the doctor.
Dr. Oberzohn closed the door on them and re-entered his study, his big mouth twitching with amusement. He pulled the cord again and closed the ventilator he had opened. It was only a few days before that he had discovered that there were dried leaves in the ventilator shaft, and that the opening of the inlet made them rustle, disturbingly for a man who was engaged in a profound study of the lesser known, and therefore the more highly cultured, philosophers.
| Chapter XXXI | The Things in the Box |
HE heard the soft purr of engines, and, looking through the hall window, saw the dim lights of the car approaching the house, and turned out the hall lamp. There he waited in the darkness, till the door of the limousine opened and Gurther jumped out.
“I respectfully report that it is done, Herr Doktor,” he said.
Oberzohn nodded.
“The woman of Newton—where is she?”
“She is inside. Is it your wish that I should bring her? She was very troublesome, Herr Doktor, and I had to use the needle.”