9/21 He became a hound--a ferret--questing for its prey. He ran lightly over to the bookcase by the hall door--a moment's inspection--he shook his head. Perhaps the other bookcase near the French windows--no--it wasn't there. Ah, the bookcase over the fireplace! He remembered now! He made for it, hastily swept the books from the top shelf, reached groping fingers into the space behind the second row of books. There! A dusty roll of three blue-prints! He unrolled them hurriedly and tried to make out the white tracings by the light of the fire--no--better take them over to the candle on the table. |