"Yes," answered Craig, "as I told you, a son of Mr. T. Pierpont
Spencer."
I shook hands with as much dignity as I could assume, for the
role of impersonation was a new one to me.
Kennedy carelessly laid his coat and hat on the inside ledge of
the ground-glass window, just opposite the spot where he had
placed the little coil on the other side of the glass. I noted
that the window was simply a large pane of wire-glass set in the
wall for the purpose of admitting light in the daytime from the
hall outside.
The whole thing seemed eerie to me--especially as Poissan's
assistant was a huge fellow and had an evil look such as I had
seen in pictures of the inhabitants of quarters of Paris which
one does not frequent except in the company of a safe guide. I
was glad Kennedy had brought his revolver, and rather vexed that
he had not told me to do likewise. However, I trusted that Craig
knew what he was about.
We seated ourselves some distance from a table on which was a
huge, plain, oblong contrivance that reminded me of the diagram
of a parallelopiped which had caused so much trouble in my solid
geometry at college.
"That's the electric furnace, sir," said Craig to me with an
assumed deference, becoming a college professor explaining things
to the son of a great financier.
Pages:
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192