Braddock looked around for Hope, but found that he had opened the front door, and had vanished. But he was too distracted to think why Archie had gone, and there was much to do in putting things straight. Beckoning to Cockatoo, he stalked into a side room, and scribbled a pencil note to the inspector of police at Pierside, telling him of what had happened, and asking him to come at once to the Pyramids with his underlings. This communication he dispatched by Cockatoo, who flew to get his bicycle. In a short time he was riding at top speed to Brefort, which was on this side of the river; facing Pierside. There he could ferry across to the town and deliver his terrible message.
Having done all that he could until the police came, Braddock walked out of the front door and into the roadway to see if Archie was in sight. He could not see the young man, but, as luck would have it, and by one of those coincidences which are much more common than is suspected, he saw the Gartley doctor walking briskly past.
"Hi!" shouted the Professor, who was purple in the face and perspiring profusely. "Hi, there, Dr. Robinson! I want you.
Come! come! hurry, man, hurry!" he ended in a testy rage, and the doctor, knowing Braddock's eccentricities, advanced with a smile.
He was a slim, dark, young medical practitioner with an amiable countenance, which argued of no mighty intelligence.
"Well, Professor," he remarked quietly, "do you want me to attend you for apoplexy? Take your time, my dear sir - take your time."He patted the scientist on the shoulder to soothe his clamorous rage. "You are already purple in the face. Don't let your blood rush to your head.""Robinson, you're a - a - a fool!" shouted Braddock, glaring at the suave looks of the doctor. "I am in perfect health, damn you, sir.""Then Miss Kendal -?"
"She is quite well also. But Bolton -?"
"Oh!" Robinson looked interested. "Has he returned with your mummy?""Mummy," bellowed Braddock, stamping like an insane Cupid - "the mummy hasn't arrived.""Really, Professor, you surprise me," said the doctor mildly.
"I'll surprise you more," growled Braddock, dragging Robinson into the garden and up the steps.
"Gently! gently! my dear sir," said the doctor, who really began to think that much learning had made the Professor mad. "Didn't Bolton -?""Bolton is dead, you fool."
"Dead!" The doctor nearly tumbled backward down the steps.
"Murdered. At least I think he is murdered. At all events he arrived here to-day in the packing case, which should have contained my green mummy. Come in and examine the body at once.
No," Braddock pushed back the doctor just as fiercely as he had dragged him forward, "wait until the constable comes. I want him to see the body first, and to observe that nothing has been touched. I have sent for the Pierside inspector to come. There will be all sorts of trouble," cried Braddock despairingly, "and my work - most important work - will be delayed, just because this silly young ass Sidney Bolton chose to be murdered," and the Professor stormed up and down the hall, shaking impotent arms in the air.
"Good heavens!" stammered Robinson, who was young in years and somewhat new to his profession, "you -you must be mistaken.""Mistaken! mistaken!" shouted Braddock with another glare. "Come and see that poor fellow's body then. He is dead, murdered.""By whom?"
"Hang you, sir, how should I know?"
"In what way has he been murdered? Stabbed, shot, or - ""I don't know - I don't know! Such a nuisance to lose a man like Bolton - an invaluable assistant. What I shall do without him Ireally don't know. And his mother has been here, making no end of a fuss.""Can you blame her?" said the doctor, recovering his breath.
"She is his mother, after all, and poor Bolton was her only son.""I am not denying the relationship, confound you!" snapped the Professor, ruffling his hair until it stood up like the crest of a parrot. "But she needn't - ah!" He glanced through the open door, and then rushed to the threshold. "Here is Hope and Painter. Come in - come in. I have the doctor here. Hope, you have the key. You observe, constable, that Mr. Hope has the key.
