He glanced round. Seven or eight feet away, and almost level with him was a double row of telegraph wires. Almost as he saw them the rope below him burned through and fell to the ground. He swung a little towards the side of the house, pushed himself vigorously away from it with his feet, and at the farthest point of the outward swing, jumped. His hands gripped the telegraph wires safely. Even in that tense moment he heard a little sob of relief from the people below.

Hand over hand he made his way to the nearest pole and slipped easily to the ground. The crowd immediately surged around him. Some one forced a drink into his hand. A chorus of congratulations fell upon his deafened ears. Then the coming of the fire engines, and the approach of a police automobile diverted the attention of the on-lookers. Quest slipped about amongst them, searching for Craig.

"Where is the man who came down before me?" he asked a bystander.

"Talking to the police in the car over yonder," was the hoa.r.s.e reply.

"Say, Guv'nor, you only just made that!"

Quest pushed his way through the crowd to where Craig was speaking eagerly to Inspector French. He stopped short and stooped down. He was near enough to hear the former's words.

"Mr. French, you saw that man come down the rope and swing on to the cables? That was Quest, Sanford Quest, the man who escaped from the Tombs prison. He can't have got away yet."

Quest drew off his coat, turned it inside out, and replaced it swiftly. He coolly picked up a hat some one had lost in the crowd and pulled it over his eyes. He pa.s.sed within a few feet of where Craig and the Inspector were talking.

"He was hiding in the Servants' Club," Craig continued, "he had just threatened to shoot me when the fire broke out."

"I'll send the word round," French declared. "We'll have him found, right enough."

For a single moment Quest hesitated. He had a wild impulse to take Craig by the neck and throw him back into the burning house. Then he heard French shout to his men.

"Say, boys, Sanford Quest is in the crowd here somewhere. He's the man who jumped on to the cable lines. A hundred dollars for his arrest!"

Quest turned reluctantly away. Men were rushing about in all directions looking for him. He forced a pa.s.sage through the crowd and in the general confusion he pa.s.sed the little line of police without difficulty. His face darkened as he looked behind at the burning block. A peculiar sense of helplessness oppressed him. His pocket wireless was by now a charred heap of ashes. His one means of communication with Lenora was gone and the only man who knew her whereabouts was safe under the protection of the police.

2.

The Professor swung round in his chair and greeted Quest with some surprise but also a little disappointment.

"No news of Craig?" he asked.

Quest sank into a chair. He was fresh from the Turkish baths and was enjoying the luxury of clean linen and the flavour of an excellent cigar.

"I got Craig all right," he replied. "He came to the Servants' Club where I was waiting for him. My luck's out, though. The place was burnt to the ground last night. I saved his life and then the brute gave me away to the police. I had to make my escape as best I could."

The Professor tapped the table peevishly.

"This is insufferable," he declared. "I have had no shaving water; my coffee was undrinkable; I can find nothing. I have a most important lecture to prepare and I cannot find any of the notes I made upon the subject."

Quest stared at the Professor for a moment and then laughed softly.

"Well," he remarked, "you are rather an egoist, Professor, aren't you?"

"Perhaps I am," the latter confessed. "Still, you must remember that the scientific world on those few occasions when I do appear in public, expects much of me. My sense of proportion may perhaps be disarranged by this knowledge. All that I can realise at the present moment, is this. You seem to have frightened away the one man in the world who is indispensable to me."

Quest smoked in silence for a moment.

"Any mail for me, Professor?" he asked, abruptly.

The Professor opened a drawer and handed him a telegram.

"Only this!"

Quest opened it and read it through. It was from the Sheriff of a small town in Connecticut:--

"The men you enquired for are both here. They have sold an automobile and seem to be spending the proceeds. Shall I arrest?"

Quest studied the message for a moment.

"Say, this is rather interesting, Professor," he remarked.

"Really?" the latter replied tartly. "You must forgive me if I cannot follow the complications of your--pardon me for saying Munchausen-like affairs. How does the arrest of these two men help you?"

"Don't you see?" Quest explained. "These are the two thugs who set upon me up at the section house. They killed the signalman, who could have been my alibi, and swiped my car, in which, as it cannot be found, French supposes that I returned to New York. With their arrest the case against me collapses. I tell you frankly, Professor," Quest continued, frowning, "I hate to leave the city without having found that girl; but I am not sure that the quickest way to set things right would not be to go down, arrest these men and bring them back here, clear myself, and then go tooth and nail for Craig."

"I agree with you most heartily," the Professor declared. "I recommend any course which will ensure the return of my man Craig."

"I cannot promise you that you will ever have Craig here again," Quest observed grimly. "I rather fancy Sing-Sing will be his next home."

"Don't be foolish, Mr. Quest," the Professor advised. "Don't let me lose confidence in you. Craig would not hurt a fly, and as to abducting your a.s.sistant--if my sense of humour were developed upon normal lines--well, I should laugh! What you have really done, you, and that young lady a.s.sistant of yours, is to terrify the poor fellow into such a state of nerves that he scarcely knows what he is doing. As a matter of fact, how do you know that that young woman has been abducted at all? Such things are most unlikely, especially in this part of the city."

"What reason do you suggest, then, for her disappearance?" Quest enquired.

"At my age," the Professor replied, drily, "I naturally know nothing of these things. But she is a young woman of considerable personal attractions--I should think it not unlikely that she is engaged in some amorous adventure."

Quest laughed derisively.

"You do not know Lenora, Mr. Ashleigh," he remarked. "However, if it interests you, I will tell you why I know she has been abducted. Only a few hours ago, I was talking to her."

The Professor turned his head swiftly towards Quest. There was a queer sort of surprise in his face.

"Talking to her?"

Quest nodded.

"Our pocket wireless!" he explained. "Lenora has even described to me the room in which she is hidden."

"And the neighbourhood also?" the Professor demanded.

"Of that she knows nothing," Quest replied. "She is in a room apparently at the top of a house and the only window is in the roof. She can see nothing, hear nothing. When I get hold of the man who put her there,"

Quest continued slowly, "it will be my ambition to supplement personally any punishment the law may be able to inflict."

The Professor's manner had lost all its petulance. He looked at Quest almost with admiration.

"The idea of yours is wonderful," he confessed. "I am beginning to believe in your infallibility, Mr. Quest. I am beginning to believe that on this occasion, at any rate, you will triumph over your enemies."

Quest rose to his feet.