“But I said, at the end of the record, that we would go to the safe, and if all was well there we would come here and communicate.”
“The record ran out before it was spoken,” said Roger, and he added:
“Well—did you find the jewel safe?”
“Just as Clark drove us up near the laboratory,” Doctor Ryder informed him, “we saw the Tibetans emerge. How they had worked it is beyond me. But we let them start in a car, trailed it, and when they got out we jumped them, and after a tussle, sure enough!—they had this, so we took charge.”
There, in his palm, lay the great, flashing emerald!
“Matter of fact,” Clark spoke up, “as long as your laboratory Chief won’t help my friend to restore this to Tibet and escape all the danger—and worse—that those Tibetans can stage, I am going to finance his trip back to Tibet, and may even go along.”
“All right,” said Roger, swinging on the soft turf, “I’d better tell Grover to stop worrying himself about your protection and all.”
“You can call from the house—a servant will show you where,” the estate owner suggested, and Roger saw no trickery or exchange of glances to tell him anything was deceptive in their manner. “While you are telling him, if you like the idea, you might ask if he can give a good young radio operator a leave-of-absence to go along. We have had a Roger, the Ear Detective, so far. We’d be willing to pay expenses and salary to a Roger, the Scientist, on our trip to restore a priceless religious symbol.”
Roger’s jaw dropped, sagging with his astonishment.
“Straight goods,” added Doctor Ryder. “The Tibetan priests are bugs about scientific cleverness. You’d be a help.”