One of the circuits had given out completely, as sometimes
happens with the electric light. Bell leapt on a table and turned the
hall light out. A second later and he was dragging the long spare flex
from the impromptu operating-room to the swinging cord over the hall
lamp. With a knife he cut the cord loose, he stripped the copper wires
beneath, and rapidly joined one flex to the other.
"It's amateur work, but I fancy it will do," he muttered. "Anyway, that
rascal is powerless to interfere with the circuit that controls the
hall light."
Snap went the hall switch--there was a sudden cry from Heritage as the
big lamp over the head of Van Sneck flared up again. Bell raced into the
study and shut the door.
"A trick," he gasped. "The light was put out. For Heaven's sake,
Heritage, don't get brooding over those fancies of yours _now._ I tell
you the thing was done deliberately. Here, if you are too weak or feeble,
give the knife to _me_."
The request had a sting in it. With an effort Heritage pulled
himself together.
"No," he said, firmly, "I'll do it. It was a cruel, dastardly trick to
play upon me, but I quite see now that it _was_ a trick.
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