“I can’t,” Roger tried to be jolly and pretend to make a joke. “But you will see how somebody else did. When we had that mystery about the revengeful man who nearly sent a chemist crazy, all you needed was one hint. I happened to be lucky enough——”
“Smart enough!”
“Well—I caught the sound that got me named the Ear Detective. I’m going to live up to my reputation.”
He crossed and stood in front of the downcast cousin.
“You solved the puzzle. You were called, in magazine articles in true-mystery write-ups—and by the newspaper men—the Mystery Wizard, who solved scientifically from one tiny sound-clue that haunted-laboratory thing. You’ll do the same with this.”
Grover failed to snap out of his dejection.
“You run up and get out your requisitions for needed supplies,” Grover suggested. “I will check up that Clark man, and try to work out a course of action.”
Roger obeyed.
His work was light, and after laying out dark-room supplies, a set of new distributor points and a replacement insulator on their high-voltage transformer line, and a few other needs, he sat down to try to think out some way to help Grover.
With pencil and paper he carried out a decision made during their chat.