“The hut, Professor!  The hut is on fire!” he cried.

His appearance on the threshold was like a flash.  They heard his flying feet down the hall, and without a moment’s hesitation they all followed.  The Professor led the way down a narrow and concealed path, but when they reached the little clearing in which the hut was situated, they were unable to approach any nearer.  The place was a whirlwind of flame.  The smell of kerosene was almost overpowering.  The wild yell of the leopard rose above the strange, half-human gibbering of the monkeys and the hoarse, bass calling of another voice, at the sound of which Lenora and even Quest shuddered.  Then, as they came, breathless, to a standstill, they saw a strange thing.  One side of the hut fell in, and almost immediately the leopard with a mighty spring, leapt from the place and ran howling into the undergrowth.  The monkeys followed but they came straight for the Professor, wringing their hands.  They fawned at his feet as though trying to show him their scorched bodies.  Then for a single moment they saw the form of the ape-man as he struggled to follow the others.  His strength failed him, however.  He fell backwards into the burning chasm.

* * * * *

The Professor bade them farewell, an hour later, on the steps of the house.  He seemed suddenly to have aged.

“You have done your best, Mr. Quest,” he said, “but Fate has been too strong.  Remember this, though.  It is quite true that the cunning of Hartoo may have made it possible for him to have stolen the skeleton and to have brought it back to its hiding-place, but it was jealousy—­cruel, brutal, foul jealousy which smeared the walls of that hut with kerosene and set a light to it.  The work of a lifetime, my dreams of scientific immortality, have vanished in those flames.”

He turned slowly away from them and re-entered the house.  Quest and Lenora made their way down the avenue and entered the automobile which was waiting for them, almost in silence.  The latter glanced towards his companion as they drove off.

“Say, this has been a bit tough for you,” he remarked.  “I’ll have to call somewhere and get you a glass of wine.”

She tried to smile but her strength was almost gone.  They drove to a restaurant and sat there for a some little time.  Lenora soon recovered her colour.  She even had courage to speak of the events of the afternoon when they re-entered the automobile.

“Mr. Quest,” she murmured, “who do you suppose burned the hut down?”

“If I don’t say Craig, I suppose you will,” he remarked.  “I wonder whether Laura’s had any luck.”

They were greeted, as they entered Quest’s room, by a familiar little ticking.  Quest smiled with pleasure.

“It’s the pocket wireless,” he declared.  “Let me take down the message.”

He spelt it out to Lenora, who stood by his side: 

“Have joined Servants’ Club disguised as your butler.  Craig frequent visitor here ten years ago, comes now occasionally.  Thursday evenings most likely time.  Shall wait here on chance of seeing him.”

“Good girl, that,” Quest remarked.  “She’s a rare sticker, too.”