Roger chuckled and refused. He wanted to work out every circuit, trace every wire, be certain that when he locked up, nothing could get in or out of that research laboratory without leaving a record and if anything happened then—well—he’d have to look to Tip about it!
Potts said good-night, and went away as instructed.
At home, telling with some reserves his experiences of the night before, to his aunt, Roger felt a constant tugging of desire to go and see if all was right.
Grover’s orders to stay away were, he felt, a magnet drawing, tugging, pulling him toward the forbidden place.
What danger, he wondered, might lurk in just a visit?
Still, he obeyed, against every dragging urge.
Toby Smith telephoned about nine o’clock.
“Say, can we get into that lab?”
“Why, Toby?”
“I clean forgot to put away Doctor Ryder’s compounds. I put down his suitcase, and got busy with Mr. Zendt who wanted a heap of chemicals, and it slipped my mind.”