"I think you have struck the right theory, doctor," he exclaimed. "That makes it imperative for me to call the police. I do not intend to lose another moment."
The chemist was turning to the door that led into the laboratory. His hand was already on the knob.
"Wait!"
There was a command in Doctor Savette's exclamation. Clark Murdock turned in surprise. He stared at the physician and noted a peculiar expression on the man's face.
Stocky and sallow, with shrewd eyes, Doctor Savette appeared as a menacing figure instead of the suave, polite professional man that he had been a moment before. It was Murdock's sudden turn that enabled him to catch his companion off poise.
While the chemist stared in consternation, Savette's masklike affability was resumed.
Again he became the suave physician and his persuasive voice sought to regain the confidence of Murdock.
"It would be inadvisable to call the police," purred the doctor. "That is exactly what the sender of this box would expect you to do—"
Murdock's voice sounded an interruption.
"You speak," he said coldly, "as though you are acquainted with the perpetrator of this outrage! It was very timely — your arrival — while I was at the telephone. Suppose" — Murdock's eyes were gleaming furiously — "that I should accuse you of complicity in the crime that lies evidenced there before us? What would you say to that, Doctor Savette?"