"Phil! Phil!" Keane Clason's voice fairly quavered with sham emotion as he ran into the room and threw himself at a man tightly bound to an upholstered chair, which in turn was wedged in among other articles of stored furniture. But Philip was too securely gagged to reply, and as Burke slashed the ropes from across his chest he dropped forward in a state of collapse. Stretched on a couch, he soon gave signs of response as a brisk massage began to restore the circulation to his cramped limbs. Suddenly he sat up and thrust his rescuers aside. "What time is it?" he demanded with an air of alarm. "One o'clock," replied Keane before anyone else could answer, patting his brother affectionately on the shoulder while within him Quest writhed with indignation. "By Jove! Phil, it's wonderful that we got to you in time. Really, how--you're not injured?" "No," grunted Philip, "just lamed up. I'll be as fit as ever by to-morrow." "If you feel equal to it," suggested Burke, "I wish you'd tell me briefly how you arrived here. Do you know the motive behind this affair? Did you recognize any of the body-snatchers?" * * * * * Philip frowned and shook his head. "Yesterday noon," he said slowly, "I took the eight-passenger Airline Express to Cleveland on business. There were three other passengers in the cabin--two men and a woman. Right away I got out a correspondence file and was running over some letters. The next thing I knew I was approaching the ground in the strangest state of mind I ever experienced. My head was splitting, and everything looked unreal to me. Seemed as if I was coming down on some new planet." "You mean the ship was gliding down to land?" "No, no. I was dangling from a parachute.... By the way, where am I now?" "In a Munson Avenue loft." "In Chicago?" Burke nodded. "I guessed as much," frowned Philip. "You see, I came down in a field, and then before I could free myself from my trappings I was pounced on--trussed up and blindfolded--by a gang of men. I knew they had taken me a long distance by automobile, but I saw nothing more until they tore the blindfold from my eyes when they left me here." "And they were all strangers to you?" "Yes--those that I saw." "Isn't this enough for just now, Burke?" interrupted Keane, and Quest received an impression of uneasiness that was not apparent in the inventor's tone. "After a good rest he's sure to recall things that escape him now." "Just one minute," nodded the detective, turning back to Philip. "Can you think of no plausible reason for this attack? Is there no one who might possibly benefit by putting you temporarily out of the way?" Philip gave a frightened start. Then he was on his feet, clutching at his brother's arm. "Keane!" he pleaded, "Keane! What's happened? I know, I know! It's the Projector."