Inspector French, who was standing a little aloof, regarded Laura with an air of unwilling admiration.

“That’s some girl, that Miss Laura,” he muttered in an undertone to Quest.  “She roasted us nicely.”

“I mustn’t stop to hear your story, Lenora,” Quest said.  “You’re safe—­that’s the great thing.”

“Found her in an empty house,” French reported, “out Gayson Avenue way.  Now, Mr. Quest, I don’t want to come the official over you too much, but if you’ll kindly remember that you’re an escaped prisoner—­”

There was a knock at the door.  A young man entered in chauffeur’s livery, with his head still bandaged.  Quest motioned him to come in.

“I’ll just repeat my story of that morning, French,” Quest said.  “We went out to find Macdougal, and succeeded, as you know.  Just as I was starting for home, those two thugs set upon me.  They nearly did me up.  You know how I made my escape.  They went off in my automobile and sold it in Bethel.  I arrested them there myself this morning.  Here’s the Sheriff, who will bear out what I say, also that they arrived at the place in my automobile.”

“Sure!” the Sheriff murmured.

“Further,” Quest continued, “there’s my chauffeur.  He knows exactly what time it was when the tire of my car blew out, just as we were starting for New York.”

“It was eleven-ten, sir,” the chauffeur declared.  “Mr. Quest and I both took out our watches to see if we could make New York by mid-day.  Then one of those fellows hit me over the head and I’ve been laid up ever since.  A man who keeps a store a little way along the road picked me up and looked after me.”

Inspector French held out his hand.

“Mr. Quest,” he said, “I reckon we’ll have to withdraw the case against you.  No hard feeling, I hope?”

“None at all,” Quest replied promptly, taking his hand.

“That’s all right, then,” French declared.  “I’ve brought two more men with me.  Perhaps, Mr. Sheriff, you wouldn’t mind escorting your prisoners around to headquarters?  I’ll be there before long.”

“And you girls,” Quest insisted, “go right to your room and rest.  I’ll come upstairs presently and have a talk.  Look after her, Laura,” he added, glancing a little anxiously at Lenora.  “She has had about as much as she can bear, I think.”

The two girls left the room.  Quest stood upon the threshold, watching the Sheriff and his prisoners leave the house.  The former turned round to wave his adieux to them.

“There’s an elderly josser out here,” he shouted; “seems to want to come in.”

Quest leaned forward and saw the Professor.

“Come right in, Mr. Ashleigh,” he invited.

The Professor promptly made his appearance.  His coat was ill-brushed and in place of a hat he was wearing a tweed cap which had seen better days.  His expression was almost pathetic.

“My dear Quest,” he exclaimed, as he wrung his hand, “my heartiest congratulations!  As you know, I always believed in your innocence.  I am delighted that it has been proved.”