Zendt, quiet, calm, thorough, had been in Australia, his own record attested. Mr. Ellison, than whom no one was more clever in electrical matters, had built power plants for a big utility company, some of his work having been in Calcutta and Karachi, both Indian cities.
“I will watch them unobtrusively,” Grover stated, “while you do an errand for me.”
Roger waited for instructions.
“I went to the address given by Doctor Ryder, just to check up and see if his fantastic story had any basis of fact,” Grover told his cousin. “Sure enough, there was dull-witted Toby Smith, and when I represented myself as an attaché of a museum—I am, you remember, one of the sub-committee on Egyptian Embalming research—the young fellow, about twenty-two, promptly enough produced and let me study the memento of his adventurous trip into Tibet. He certainly does not realize its value, and to me, inexperienced as I am, it appears to be a marvel of Nature’s crystallizing stresses, as well as a credit to the Tibetan jeweler’s craftsmanship.”
Roger was all ears.
“To him it was a souvenir, with little other value—a bit of art-glass, he told me he supposed it was.
“I bought it. You are to go and get it.”
“Why wouldn’t he let you bring it?”
“I thought of the possibility of being watched——”
Oh, boy! was Roger’s mental comment.