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.

“Well,” he said, “if I can keep out of my friend French’s way for a few hours longer, I think I can promise you that I shall be a free man when I return from Bethel.  I’m off now, Professor.  Wish me good luck!”

“My friend,” the Professor replied, “I wish you the best of luck, but more than anything else in the world,” he added, a little peevishly, “I hope you may bring me back my servant Craig, and leave us both in peace.”

Quest stepped off the cars at Bethel a little before noon that morning.  The Sheriff met him at the depot and greeted him cordially but with obvious surprise.

“Say, Mr. Quest,” he exclaimed, as they turned away, “I know these men are wanted on your charge, but I thought—­you’ll excuse my saying so—­that you were in some trouble yourself.”

Quest nodded.

“I’m out of that—­came out yesterday.”

“Very glad to hear it,” the Sheriff assured him heartily.  “I never thought that they’d be able to hold you.”

“They hadn’t a chance,” Quest admitted.  “Things turned out a little awkwardly at first, but this affair is going to put me on my feet again.  The moment my car is identified and Red Gallagher and his mate arrested, every scrap of evidence against me goes.”

“Well, here’s the garage and the man who bought the car,” the Sheriff remarked, “and there’s the car itself in the road.  It’s for you to say whether it can be identified.”

Quest drew a sigh of relief.

“That’s mine, right enough,” he declared.  “Now for the men.”

“Say, I want to tell you something,” the Sheriff began dubiously.  “These two are real thugs.  They ain’t going to take it lying down.”