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All the same, Bullard on going out, after Flitch's breakfast, to enjoy his own elsewhere, locked the latter into the bedroom, which was on the third floor. First of all he despatched to Lancaster a telegram brutal in its curtness: "Alan Craig is at Grey House."
It looked like a camera, and yet it had some attachment at the side that was queer, including a little lamp. Craig bent and attached some wires about the box. At last he seemed ready. "Walter," he whispered, "roll that sofa quietly over against the door. There, now the table and that bureau, and wedge the chairs in. Keep that door shut at any cost. It's now or never here goes."
'That s' be as ye please, Miss Craig. But I wud lat you ca' me a' the ill names in the dictionar to get ye to heark to me! I'm tellin ye naething but what's true as death. 'I call no one names. I am always civil to my neighbours whoever they may be! I will not listen to you. 'Eh, lassie, there's but feow o' yer neebours ceevil to yer name, whatever they be to yersel!
I was correcting what I had written when the door opened from the laboratory and Craig entered. He had thrown off his old, acid- stained laboratory smock and was now dressed to venture forth. "Have you found out anything about the poison?" I asked. "Nothing definite yet," he replied. "That will take some time now.
Believe me, Professor Kennedy, it was asphyxia." I could tell by the look that crossed Kennedy's face that at last a ray of light had pierced the darkness. "Have you any spirits of turpentine in the office?" he asked. The coroner shook his head and took a step toward the telephone as if to call the drug-store in town. "Or ether?" interrupted Craig. "Ether will do." "Oh, yes, plenty of ether."
It was only for a moment that I could see Craig alone to explain the impressions I had received, but it was enough. "I'm glad you called me," he whispered. "There is something queer." We followed them up to the dainty bedroom in flowered enamel where Virginia Blakeley lay, and it was then for the first time that we saw her.
At this moment the adjutant, Captain Craig, who had been eating with Colonel Cleaves in the latter's quarters above, entered the dining-room briskly, stepping to a nearby table and rapping for attention. "Gentlemen," he announced, "the sea appears to be infested, at this point, with unseen enemy craft. Ours, among other transports, has narrowly dodged two torpedoes.
Craig said pretty feeble-like 't it wouldn't be no rest to send the minister's wife off with thirteen childern, 'n' I spoke up pretty sharp 'n' asked what kind of a rest the town 'd get if them thirteen childern was left behind. I c'd see 't I'd hit the nail on the head then, jus' by the way 't they all waited to get a drink afore going any further." Miss Clegg stopped and drew a deep breath.
In the meantime the desperate prisoner was struggling fiercely with the men who had him, but when on the bridge Walters raised his powerful fist and struck him over the temple, and with Craig trailed him like a rag into the barracks. As the woman passed screaming, "You red-coated devil," Steele shouted, "Take her along too."
The pickpocket looked at Craig suspiciously. "Oh, don't worry; I'm all right," laughed Craig. "You see that fellow, Coke Brodie? I want to get something on him. If you will frame that sucker to get away with a whole front, there's a fifty in it." The dip looked, rather than spoke, his amazement. Apparently Kennedy satisfied his suspicions. "I'm on," he said quickly. "When he goes, I'll follow him.
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