Thus it happened, for after another ten minutes the patient sat up suddenly on the couch and looked at the two men before him, bewildered.
"What's the matter?" he asked. The thickness was gone from his speech; he was himself again, although a little shaky.
Briefly, Hatch explained to him what had happened, and he listened silently. Finally he turned to The Thinking Machine.
"And this gentleman?" he asked. He noted the queer appearance of the scientist, and stared into the squint eyes frankly.
"Professor Van Dusen, a distinguished scientist and physician," Hatch introduced. "I brought you here. He has been working with you for an hour."
"And now, Mr. Curtis," said The Thinking Machine, "if you will tell us _all_ you know about the murder of Miss Melrose----"
Curtis paled suddenly.
"Why do you ask me?" he demanded.
"You said a great deal while you were unconscious," remarked The Thinking Machine, as he dreamily stared at the ceiling. "I know that worry over that and too much alcohol have put you in a condition bordering on nervous collapse. I think it would be better if you told it _all_."
Hatch instantly saw the trend of the scientist's remarks, and remained discreetly silent. Curtis stared at both for a moment, then paced nervously across the room. He did not know what he might have said, what chance word might have been dropped. Then, apparently, he made up his mind, for he stopped suddenly in front of The Thinking Machine.