"Bring me the steamer-lists," he said, "and have the servants pack my things. We are going to leave on the Nord-Express at midnight."
CHAPTER XLIII
THE PITFALL
"So you think it incredible, then!"
Lawrence Treadwell's glance at Craig was veiled as he replied, dryly:
"I am considering the evidence as you present it, that's all. This, it seems to me, is what it amounts to: Mr. Henry Sevier, a reputable citizen and a well known resident of this place, a year ago leaves for a vacation."
"In disguise," interrupted Craig.
Treadwell shook his head. "There is no evidence of that—it is mere allegation. He was seen here late one afternoon, as usual. There could be no mistake, for he's a characteristic enough individual. He had arranged for the closing of his office, had told his clerk, in fact, that he was going abroad. The same night, at midnight in your own house—two hundred miles away and in another state—a man is arrested, one of a gang of burglars. There were all the usual earmarks—open safe, black mask, an attempt at escape, with the shooting of yourself thrown in."
"I identified him an hour later, as soon as I regained consciousness."