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Chapter XVI THE PROFESSOR TALKS
“That got the dear gentlemen!” There came a rasping chuckle from below. “Yes, that sent them to their happy hunting ground. Too bad the Indian wasn’t with them, but he will serve another purpose.”

“Beg pardon, Professor—” It was Lambert’s subdued voice this time. “If those two are really done for—burned to death, why don’t the bodies fall?”

“Caught on the staples, you silly fool! But just to prevent any chance of survival, you’d better ignite the other can.”

For a moment there was silence, then the two at the top of the dining-room flue heard the same roar down the chimney and again the white hot flame rushed past them.
212

“Now are you quite satisfied?” whined the wheezing treble. “They are burned to a crisp, I tell you. Tomorrow I’ll have the chimney cleaned and their remains brought down. It’s too late tonight. Well, Lambert,” the voice went on testily, “what have you got to say to that? For a man who makes bad mistakes, you have become exceedingly critical.”

“Very good, Professor. But may I be allowed to suggest that they may have climbed out the top of the chimney before we started the gasoline? Even now they may be hiding on the roof.”
213

“Oh, no, they are not hiding on the roof, my dear young man! I grant you that the youth Bolton was a midshipman in the Navy and can probably climb like a cat. But we were a little too fast for them, Lambert—a little too fast. Ever since I knew they had taken to the chimney, Otto and Henry have been watching on the roof. Inasmuch as I see them both standing in the doorway now, I think we may take it for granted, my dear Lambert, that the intruders have departed—not escaped.” There was a wealth of ugly sarcasm in the old man’s tone. “Now, Otto,” he added sharply. “How about it? What’s your report?”

“Nuthin’ come up, sir, but the flames, sir. Them two is burned to a frazzle!”

“You see, Lambert—you see!” Professor Fanely’s wheeze was triumphant. “Perhaps Lambert, you will permit me to run my own affairs in future without interference on your part. Just remember that you are my paid employee—nothing more.”

Bill nudged the detective. “That ought to hold friend Lambert for a while,” he whispered. “I certainly hope nobody remembers that this vent leads into the main chimney.”

“Sh—! There’s Otto again.”
214

“Beg pardon, sir.” The deep tones floated up the chimney. “What shall we do about the stiff upstairs?”

“Ah! The late Mr. Serge Kolinski! That was an unforeseen contretemps, was it not, Lambert? Well, the man had his uses. My plan, as you may have guessed, was to place him in the car with the late Mr. Ashton Sanborn. They would have been run down the road half a mile or so, the car wrecked and a revolver, with two empty chambers left in the hand of the secret service man. Tomorrow’s newspapers would have stated that I had turned over my butler to Mr. Sanborn. That the two must have fought in the car, with the result that in the struggle, both were shot with the same gun.” He stopped and blew his nose loudly. “But there again, Lambert, you stepped in and messed things up. Now we have Kolinski and two other bodies on our hands. Let me see—? Ah, yes, we will do it this way. Henry, tomorrow morning you will place the three bodies in the small plane. Put them in the luggage cockpit, and take Thomas along. Fly across the Sound and Long Island, and keep straight out to sea. When you are twenty-five miles from shore, have Thomas throw them overboard. You understand?”
215

“Yes, sir.”

“Then see that there are no more errors made. By the way, Otto, speaking of Sanborn’s car—what has become of it?”

“We used it to carry the young Indian feller down to the lodge, sir. It’s parked down there.”
216

“Very well. Go to bed now. At four o’clock go down to the lodge. Get the Seminole and drive him up to the laboratory. Don’t forget to change the license plates, though. We’ve had enough trouble through Kolinski’s oversight. I will leave later in the Fokker, so will arrive before you. And while I think of it, Otto, don’t drive up there by way of Heartfield’s. The state police may be watching that route. Drive from here to Bedford and up through Brewster to Pawling. I know that the road to Mizzentop is a bad one, but it’s safer that way. And thanks to Mr. Lambert, we shall all have to play safe for some little more. Have you got that straight now, Otto?”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“Then good night all. We must be about early in the morning, remember.”

“Good night, sir,” murmured a chorus of voices.

“Oh, Lambert! Don’t forget to take the A44 notes in the morning. I will leave Mizzentop early in the afternoon for Washington. The President dines with me, you know, and we will want to go over the papers later.”

“Very good, sir. I shall bring them.”

There came the sound of footsteps, then all was quiet below.

“We’ll give them an hour,” Sanborn whispered. “You haven’t a flashlight, Bill?”
217

“No—why?”

“There’s no other way of seeing the hands of my wristwatch to gauge the time. These matches blow out—”

“Don’t worry, sir. My dial is luminous. Wait till I rub some of the soot off—great grief! it’s after eleven! We’ve been here nearly two hours.”
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