y or two, can it? We
must not do anything to--to--anger them must we? Oh, I don't know
what to say!"

She turned swiftly and hurried out. The men turned toward one
another in mute inquiry. Three of them were startled at what they
saw in the features of Professor Brierly. Even Matthews had never
seen such profound, unutterable, implacable rage as now possessed
the old scientist. They were all accustomed to outbursts of wrath
and impatience at stupidity or stubbornness when he was crossed;
these passed quickly. Never had even Matthews, of the three who
knew him best, seen the deadly anger that now blazed in the deeply
sunken eyes. Professor Brierly was about to speak, but his emotion
was too deep for utterance. He stammered, stopped and left the
room.

When he returned shortly he said with repressed emotion:

"I can condone all kinds of property crime; they may be caused by
need or greed; they may be the result of bad home influence. I can
condone crimes of passion; even the laws differentiate between
these and deliberate murder. But there is no mitigation or excuse
for this kind of deed, a crime that takes an infant from its home
and makes others suffer. I shall see to it," his words were
carefully spaced and came slowly, "that-the-men-responsible-for-this-are
punished." He shook his head violently as if to shake off an unpleasant
picture. He held up the envelope and enclosure once more. He looked
up when Norah came in dry-eyed. She stood leaning wearily against the
table running her hand through her disheveled hair.

"Have you decided?" asked Professor Brierly.

"Yes, Professor, we will wait a day or two. I--I--am afraid."

A day and night spent in an agony of apprehension came to an end
the following morning with the receipt of the following message:

_Professor Herman Brierly:_

_Go home to New York, you will hear from us there._

It was printed on the same cheap notepaper. Again, as the first
message, it bore the postmark of Magog. It had no signature.
McCall pointed to the address on the envelope:

"Is this the way you have all your mail addressed, to the post
office at Lentone or--"

"Some of the mail is addressed this way; some of it is addressed
directly to me and is left in the mail box nailed up to a tree at
the entrance to this trail."

"What will you do about this, Professor?"

"I ought to go, of course, but--"

"To New York?" wondered Jimmy. "You would think the kidnappers,
would rather