"If Marsland gives out," added Tremont, "Orlinov will stop for tonight. If he gives in under the strain, Orlinov has promised to let me know immediately. He will come up here when Marsland expresses his willingness to speak. We can both go downstairs to hear the grilling."
"Here's wishing Orlinov luck," declared Savette. "It's good practice for him, after all. We have a new customer who may need treatment" — Savette pointed over his shoulder to the big box — "so if Orlinov experiments with Marsland it may do good rather than harm. I'll take your word for it that he is using discretion."
"Let me see what you have here," said Tremont, pointing to the portmanteau. Forgetting Marsland's situation, Savette again stooped before the suitcase and began to pass various articles to Tremont.
"Look them over," grinned the renegade physician. "This is a gold mine, Glade. A real gold mine. Better than anything we have struck. It gives us all the funds we want.
"I caught Cranston just as he was leaving for parts unknown, to be gone for two years. He is now a dead man who will live — and people will not know it for a while, so long as he signs his checks and sends his written orders for the disposition of his available wealth.
"We can take it slowly and wisely. Time it with the progress of our experiments here. Then, when we are through with the others, we will be through with Cranston, too. He will go out with the rest."
"How will you cover his death?"
"Cover it? By letters that he himself writes. I shall go abroad, Glade. Word will come back that Cranston is in Africa, going to a dangerous region of the jungle. It will be easy to plant the evidence — especially with Cranston's own letters. He will not come back — that is all. I'm glad I waited for this. It is the best and safest proposition that we have yet encountered."
"Six months at the most," said Tremont thoughtfully.
"Ah!" exclaimed Savette. "You have made new progress here?"