Perhaps you have read in the papers that my nephew,
Willie Partridge, has completed an explosive which is more
powerful than any at present known. His father--you have heard of
him, of course--Dwight Partridge."
Mr. Sturgis nodded.
"His father was working on it at the time of his death, and
Willie has gone on with his experiments where he left off. To-day
at lunch he showed us a test-tube full of the explosive. He put
it in my husband's safe in the library. Lord Wisbeach is
convinced that these scoundrels are trying to steal this, but I
cannot help feeling that this is another of those attempts to
kidnap my son Ogden. What do you think?"
"It is impossible to say at this stage of the proceedings. All we
can tell is that there is some plot going on. You refused, of
course, to allow Mitchell to come back to the house?"
"Yes. You think that was wise?"
"Undoubtedly. If his absence did not handicap them, they would
not be so anxious to have him on the spot."
"What shall we do?"
"You wish me to undertake the case?"
"Of course."
Mr. Sturgis frowned thoughtfully.
"It would be useless for me to come here myself. By bad luck the
man who pretends to be your nephew has seen me. If I were to come
to stay here, he would suspect something. He would be on his
guard." He pondered with closed eyes. "Miss Trimble," he
exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon."
"You want Miss Trimble.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233