He passed the Bolla to Popham and Popham handed it to Markham. It was presently returned to me and I packed it away as before.
The professor then asked me for an account of what had happened during my flight toward Baigol with the exchequer. Gilhooly was not able to help me much in the recital, as the most important part of our adventures was a perfect blank to him.
I did not try to conceal anything from Quinn. I painted my designs on the king's money as black as they really were and he smiled as he listened.
"When did Mr. Gilhooly lay hands on the Bolla?" Quinn asked.
"How do you know that he did?" I returned.
"I am very sure that he did," was the quiet reply.
Thereupon I told the professor how I had thrown the stone from the heap of gold and Gilhooly had picked it up, his reason returning shortly afterward. Quinn wagged his head sagely and mumbled something I could not understand, but which had to do with the ridiculous pretensions of the Bolla.
I feared then for the mind of this great and good man. Was he breaking under the tremendous responsibility incurred by removing the plutocrats from Earth?
A chill of apprehension shot to my heart. I was about to say something of a soothing nature to my patron—for I certainly looked upon him as such—when Olox and his Gaddbaizets appeared.
Key seven of the high chief's word-box titillated with relief the instant the officer got his eye on Gilhooly. The exuberance faded into a note of foreboding and the foreboding into the words: