tland Yard," he directed. "Say--'Am
sailing on _Lusitania_ to-morrow. Hold prisoner. Charge very serious. Have
full warrants.'"

Lenora wrote down the message and went to the telephone to send it off. As
soon as she had finished, Quest took up his hat again.

"Come on," he invited. "The machine's outside. We'll just go and look in
on the Professor and tell him the news. Poor old chap, I'm afraid he'll
never be the same man again."

"He must miss Craig terribly," Lenora observed, as they took their places
in the automobile, "and yet, Mr. Quest, it does seem to me a most amazing
thing that a man so utterly callous and cruel as Craig must be, should
have been a devoted and faithful servant to anyone through all these
years."

Quest nodded.

"I am beginning to frame a theory about that. You see, all the time Craig
has lived with the Professor, he has been a sort of dabbler with him in
his studies. Where the Professor's gone right into a thing and understood
it, Craig, you see, hasn't managed to get past the first crust. His brain
wasn't educated enough for the subjects into the consideration of which
the Professor may have led him. See what I'm driving at?"

"You mean that he may have been mad?" Lenora suggested.

"Something of that sort," Quest assented. "Seems to me the only feasible
explanation. The Professor's a bit of a terror, you know. There are some
queer stories about the way he got some of his earlier specimens in South
America. Science is his god. What he has gone through in some of those
foreign countries, no one knows. Quite enough to unbalance any man of
ordinary nerves and temperament."

"The Professor himself is remarkably sane," Lenora observed.

"Precisely," Quest agreed, "but then, you see, his brain was big enough,
to start with. It could hold all there was for it to hold. It's like
pouring stuff into the wrong receptacle when a man like Craig tries to
follow him. However, that's only a theory. Here we are, and the front door
wide open. I wonder how our friend's feeling to-day."

They found the Professor on his hands and knees upon a dusty floor.
Carefully arranged before him were the bones of a skeleton, each laid in
some appointed place. He had a chart on either side of him, and a third
one on an easel. He looked up a little impatiently at the sound of the
opening of the door, but when he recognised Quest and his companion the
annoyance passed from his face.

"Are we disturbing you, Mr. As