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The thoughts formed themselves mechanically in her mind. Her eyes sought the ball which had come crashing into the room. There was life once more in her pulses. She found a scrap of paper and a pencil in her pocket. With trembling fingers she wrote a few words: "Police head-quarters. I am Sanford Quest's assistant, abducted and imprisoned here in the room where the ball has fallen. Help!
He arrived just as the Squire was in the full flow of his meditations, and it would not have needed a man of Mr. Quest's penetration and powers of observation to discover that he had something on his mind which he was longing for an opportunity to talk about. The Squire signed the lease without paying the slightest attention to Mr.
Quest's Hilda who had held her head steady and tilted to the toilet on a couple occasions. Property: she would define it as that claim on a person or thing to seem to oneself to be.
She obeyed him mutely, pressing her hands to her eyes, shivering in every limb. French stood back inside the room. He heard the front door open, he heard Quest's voice outside. "Ross! Where the devil are you, Ross?" There was no reply. The door was pushed open. Quest entered, followed by the Professor and Craig. The Inspector stood watching their faces.
She had tried several times to engage her son about his feelings and experience being present at the girl's death and yet then and now he did not seem particularly bothered by it. He never said anything depicting blame and confusion over Mr. Quest's role in the tragic incident. "Sure, I'd like to be dragged that way" he reiterated.
As the final result of their strenuous enterprise, these cryptic words seemed pitifully inadequate. Quest's face darkened. He crumpled the paper in his fingers. "There must be some meaning in this," he muttered. "It can't be altogether a fool's game we're on. Wait."
I live in terror. If I have concealed it, it has been at the expense of my nerves and my strength. I think that very soon I could have gone on no longer." Quest's only reply was a little nod. Yet, notwithstanding his imperturbability of expression, that little nod was wonderfully sympathetic. Lenora leaned back in her place well satisfied. She felt that she was understood.
In the morning I was up betimes, and went forthwith, after the country fashion, to our quest's room to see if there was aught in which I could serve him. On pushing at his door, I found that it was fastened, which surprised me the more as I knew that there was neither key nor bolt upon the inside.
"M-m," Harris murmured softly, "as the gentleman who wrote the volume of detective stories I am reading puts it, we'd better keep our eye on Brown."... The Captain, who was down to dinner unusually early, rose to welcome Quest's little party and himself arranged the seats. "You, Miss Lenora," he said, "will please sit on my left, and you, Miss Laura, on my right. Mr.
"Ah," said he, breaking in upon her eloquence, "I suppose that the lady friends smoke cigars. Well, clear away this mess and leave me stop, give me a brandy-and-soda first. I will wait for your mistress." The woman stopped talking and did as she was bid, for there was a look in Mr. Quest's eye which she did not quite like.
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