"He wanted to know where you were. I said I didn't know, as you didn't say anything to me. And then we got talking and-I'm sorry, sir-but I let out that it seemed mighty queer, your going that way. And then he asked me questions about where I'd last seen you and all that. I told him about finding this gray stuff-it's wrapped up in that newspaper on the table, sir-and not knowing what it was or whether you wanted it kept or thrown out.
"And then-honest, I don't know how he did it, but he got me to show it to him. I brought it in here. And then he said I'd never see you again, and would I sell him the stuff. I said no, of course. Then he pulled a gun on me-here it is-and I jumped on him-and then you came in. I didn't want to hurt the old guy, but he got me wild and-"
"That's all right, Martin. You did very well, but don't ever be doing any of it again. Now hurry up that supper. What's coming next would likely strain your poor brain. Get along with you."
Reluctantly, Martin vanished kitchenward. The rest of the company pulled up chairs and made themselves comfortable. For a time they found the captive of Martin's prowess inclined to an attitude of silent defiance. Upon Terry's threat, however, to turn him over to the police on charges of housebreaking, he expressed a willingness to listen to reason. Bertram's presence had a very chastening effect. He knew the burglar for one of the men he had hired to steal the Cerberus, and realized that should his former accomplice go on the stand, his testimony, together with the attack on Martin, would mean penitentiary stripes for himself.
"By the way," Drayton broke in, picking up the newspaper package which contained the Dust of Purgatory and weighing it in his hand, "did you ever ask Bertram, Terry, if he knew what had become of the vial this was in?"
The burglar started and flushed. "Say, I done a mean trick then. I didn't mean to keep the thing, but you left it laying on your bureau that day at the Belleclaire, Mr. Trenmore, and I-well, I took it along. I give it to Skidoo here for a keepsake. I didn't have anything else pretty to give her. But she's a straight girl and I shouldn't've done it. Skidoo, have you got that bottle I give you for bath salts?"
"Sure." No. 23000 promptly produced it from her sweater pocket. "Why, Bert, wasn't it yours?"
Bertram admitted that it was not. With a reproachful glance for Bertram, she extended the Cerberus vial to Trenmore. Trenmore reached for it and took it in his hand. In the flash of an eye the space before him was empty. Miss Skidoo had vanished more abruptly than he had himself disappeared, upon his first experience with the dust!
With a startled yell, Terence leaped to his feet and flung the Cerberus across the room. His feelings were shared by all present, save the old collector, who put up a thin, protesting hand.
"Now, don't-I beg of you, don't become excited! Mr. Trenmore, my nerves are not in shape to stand this sort of thing. There is no harm done-unless the beautiful little curio is broken, which would be a pity. Tell me, did that violently costumed young lady come here from-well, from the place you have been in since this morning?"