Were “appearances” cheating his common sense? He decided to pretend to accept conditions, but he watched alertly for clues.
“But I expect you are surprised to see this situation,” the man who owned these acres of wealth declared.
Roger could not dissemble well enough.
“No fair keeping him in the dark,” Doctor Ryder prompted. “I was going to telephone, but we had some details to work out over a few holes of Scotch Croquet,” he laughed at his own allusion to golf. “So you sleuthed me anyhow. Well, let’s put our cards on the table.”
“All right,” Mr. Clark—the footman’s identification—said.
“I was getting the Voice of Doom manifestation again when—how, only he can reveal—this old traveling chum, who has gone further in making money than I have in curing spinal disease,” Doctor Ryder was speaking, “stalked into my room.”
“Well, I knew you were in danger,” the other remarked. “So I just went in through a cellar window and up the stairs, and just as the Tibetans were getting the hang of the slotted cable trick to shut off the current so they could walk in, I knocked down the ring-leader.”
Could that have been the thump on the record, Roger asked himself.
“They had a copperized gadget, and so I chased the other two, and used the gadget, walked in, and brought my old chum out here.”
“You might have saved us a lot of worry,” Roger spoke abruptly. “We thought all sorts of terrible things about you, doctor.”