“Phalen! Come at once!” Flix whispered. “I know who the mastermind is!”
When Phalen arrived, it was well past midnight.
“Phalen! I thought you would never get here,” Flix cried.
“I got here as quickly as possible, Cupid, but the roads are terrible. Who is it! Who!”
“I must talk with Quintland!”
“Dr. Quintland is our killer?”
“No. Of course not. But, we have to talk to him, at once!”
“He’ll be asleep at this hour.”
“And we will use that to our advantage. A drowsy mind is more apt to tell us what we want to know than one that is alert and on guard.”
“On guard?” I don’t understand. Oh, my friend, but you will.”
The two immediately hurried toward Dr. Quintland’s suite.
“He’s gone!”
“We are too late!” Flix exclaimed.
“But, I thought you said Quintland was not the murderer,” Phalen said, standing inside the empty suite of rooms.
“And that is true. Hurry! We must go to George’s room!”
“The cripple!”
“Come! Come! If what I fear has happened, the joke is on us!”
The two men ran swiftly to George’s room.
“Dear God!” Phalen exclaimed.
“He is a ghost, my friend. Along with our good doctor. Both have slipped away from us as unseen as the wind.”