, and who might have left
through the conservatory."

"He did leave by it," Lenora declared. "He is in a state of panic at the
present moment. What else do you suppose he was out there listening for?"

"The Professor speaks very highly of him," Quest reminded her.

"The Professor is just one of those amiable old idiots, absorbed in his
mouldy old work, who would never notice anything," Lenora persisted. "He
is just the man to be completely hoodwinked by a clever servant."

"There is some sense in what the kid says," Laura remarked, strolling up.
"The fact remains that Craig was one of the few men who could have got at
the necklace that night, and he is also one of the few who knew about the
skeleton."

Quest sighed as he lit a cigar.

"It is a miserably obvious solution," he said. "To tell you the truth,
girls, our friend Inspector French has had his men watching Craig ever
since the night of the robbery. What's that? Answer the telephone,
Lenora."

Lenora obeyed.

"It's Inspector French," she announced. "He wants to speak to you."

Quest nodded, and held out his hand for the receiver.

"Hullo, French," he exclaimed. "Anything fresh?"

"Nothing much!" was the answer. "One of my men, though, who has been up
Mayton Avenue way, brought in something I found rather interesting this
morning. I want you to come round and see it."

"Go right ahead and tell me about it," Quest invited.

"You know we've been shadowing Craig," the Inspector continued. "Not much
luck up till now. Fellow seems never to leave his master's side. We have
had a couple of men up there, though, and one of them brought in a
curious-looking object he picked up just outside the back of the
Professor's grounds. It's an untidy sort of neighbourhood, you know--kind
of waste ground they commenced to build over, and then the real estate man
who had it in hand, went smash."

"What is the thing?" Quest asked.

"Well, I want to see whether you agree with me," French went on. "If you
can't come round, I'll come to you."

"No necessity," Quest replied. "We've got over little difficulties of that
sort. Laura, just tack on the phototelesme," he added, holding the
receiver away for a moment. "One moment, French. There, that's right," he
added, as Laura, with deft fingers, arranged what seemed to be a
sensitised mirror to the instrument. "Now, French, hold up the article
just in front of the receiver."

French's reply was a little brusque.

"What ar