"Well?" he asked.
"Ernest Weston has no motor-boat," the reporter informed him. "George Weston has an electric, but we can't get it because it is away. Maybe I can get one somewhere else if you particularly want it."
"Never mind," said The Thinking Machine. He spoke as if he had entirely lost interest in the matter.
Together they started around the house to the kitchen door.
"What's the next move?" asked Hatch.
"I'm going to find the jewels," was the startling reply.
"Find them?" Hatch repeated.
"Certainly."
They entered the house through the kitchen and the scientist squinted this way and that, through the reception-room, the library, and finally the back hallway. Here a closed door in the flooring led to a cellar.
In the cellar they found heaps of litter. It was damp and chilly and dark. The Thinking Machine stood in the center, or as near the center as he could stand, because the base of the chimney occupied this precise spot, and apparently did some mental calculation.