“What crackup?”
“Priam’s. Keats, all that was the bellowing of a frightened steer in the dark. He’s even more demoralized than I thought. He played a big scene just now for our benefit ― a very good one, considering the turmoil he’s in.
“Maybe one more, Keats,” murmured Ellery. “One more.”
Chapter Eight
Laurel said the frogs were very important. The enemy had slipped. So many hundreds of the warty beasts must have left a trail. All they had to do was pick it up.
“What trail? Pick it up where?” demanded Macgowan.
“Mac, where would you go if you wanted some frogs?”
“I wouldn’t want some frogs.”
“To a pet shop, of course!”
The giant looked genuinely admiring. “Why can’t I think of things like that?” he complained. “To a pet shop let us go.”