“I never claimed,” shrugged Ellery, “to be a magician. Or even a theo-logian. What’s happened here is either the blackest magic or palpable proof that miracles can happen.”
“It would seem so,” muttered Thorne. “And yet, when you put your mind to it... It goes against reason, by thunder!”
“I see,” said Ellery dryly, “the man of law is recovering from the initial shock. Well, it’s a shame to have to leave here now, in a way. I detest the thought of giving up — especially at the present time.”
“At the present time? What do you mean?”
“I dare say, Thorne, you haven’t emerged far enough from your condition of shock to have properly analyzed this little problem. I gave it a lot of thought today. The goal eludes me — but I’m near it,” he said softly, “very near it.”
“You mean,” gasped the lawyer, “you mean you actually—”
“Remarkable case,” said Ellery. “Oh, extraordinary — there isn’t a word in the English language or any other, for that matter, that properly describes it. If I were religiously inclined...” He puffed away thoughtfully. “It gets down to very simple elements, as all truly great problems do. A fortune in gold exists. It is hidden in a house. The house disappears. To find the gold, then, you must first find the house. I believe...”
“Aside from that mumbo-jumbo with Keith’s broom the other day,” cried Thorne, “I can’t recall that you’ve made a single effort in that direction. Find the house! — why, you’ve done nothing but sit around and wait.”
“Exactly,” murmured Ellery.
“What?”