“You’ve found Lenora, then, Inspector?” he exclaimed.  “Bully for you!...  What do I mean?  What I say!  You forget that I am a scientific man, French.  No end of appliances here you haven’t had time to look at.  I can see you sitting there, and Lenora and Laura looking as though you had them on the rack.  You can drop that, French.  I’ve got Red Gallagher and his mate, got them here with the Sheriff of Bethel.  They went off with my auto and sold it.  We’ve got that.  Also, in less than five minutes my chauffeur will be here.  He’s been lying in a farmhouse, unconscious, since that scrap.  He can tell you what time he saw me last.  Bring the girls along, French—­and hurry!”

Quest hung up the receiver.

“I’ve given Inspector French something to think about,” he remarked, as he turned away.  “Now, Mr. Sheriff, if you can make yourself at home for a quarter of an hour or so, French will be here and take these fellows off your hands.  I’ve still a little more telephoning to do.”

“You go right ahead,” the Sheriff acquiesced.

Quest rang up the Professor.  His response to the call was a little languid, and his reception of the news of Quest’s successful enterprise was almost querulous.

“My friend,” the Professor said, “your news gratifies me, of course.  Your rehabilitation, however, was a matter of certainty.  With me life has become a chaos.  You can have no idea, with your independent nature, what it means to entirely rely upon the ministrations of one person and to be suddenly deprived of their help.”

“No news of Craig, then?” Quest demanded.

“None at all,” was the weary reply.  “What about your young lady assistant?”

“She’ll be here in five minutes,” Quest told him.  “You had better come along and hear her story.  It ought to interest you.”

“Dear me!” the Professor exclaimed.  “I will certainly come—­certainly!”

Quest set down the receiver and paced the room thoughtfully for a moment or two.  Although his own troubles were almost over, the main problem before him was as yet unsolved.  The affair with the Gallaghers was, after all, only an off-shoot.  It was the mystery of Lenora’s abduction, the mystery of the black box, which still called for the exercise of all his ingenuity.

Inspector French was as good, even better, than his word.  In a surprisingly short time he entered the room, followed by Laura and Lenora.  Quest gave them a hand each, but it was into Lenora’s eyes that he looked.  Her coming, her few words of greeting, timid though they were, brought him an immense sense of relief.

“Well, girls,” he said, “both full of adventures, eh?  What did they do with you in the Tombs, Laura?”

“Pshaw!  What could they do?” Laura replied.  “If they’re guys enough to be tricked by a girl, the best thing they can do is to keep mum about it and let her go.  That’s about what they did to me.”