XXI

The Recovery of the Formula

“ Der liebe Gott! ” said Herr Eberhard in a whisper.

His face had gone chalky white.

George turned a face of dignified reproach on Battle.

“Is this true, Battle? I left all arrangements in your hands.”

The rocklike quality of the Superintendent showed out well. Not a muscle of his face moved.

“The best of us are defeated sometimes, sir,” he said quietly.

“Then you mean⁠—you really mean⁠—that the document is gone?”

But to everyone’s intense surprise Superintendent Battle shook his head.

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