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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19162-8.txt b/19162-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd24bf9 --- /dev/null +++ b/19162-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8262 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Valley, by J. M. Walsh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lost Valley + +Author: J. M. Walsh + +Release Date: September 2, 2006 [EBook #19162] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST VALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Michael Ciesielski, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE LOST VALLEY + + By J. M. WALSH + + 1921 + +The C. J. DeGARIS PUBLISHING HOUSE +MELBOURNE + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I. + +THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE + +I.--The Adventure on the Sands + +II.--An Old Friend + +III.--The Strange Behaviour of Mr. Bryce + +IV.--The Thief in the Night + +V.--Circumstantial Evidence + +VI.--I Tell a Lie + +VII.--Introducing Mr. Albert Cumshaw + + +PART II. + +THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW + +I.--Nightfall + +II.--The Pursuit + +III.--The Hidden Valley + +IV.--When Thieves Fall Out + +V.--Expiation + +VI.--The Hegira of Mr. Abel Cumshaw + +VII.--The Gathering of the Eagles + + +PART III. + +THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY + +I.--The Cypher + +II.--Over the Hills and Far Away + +III.--The Promised Land + +IV.--We Enter the Valley + +V.--Dies Irae + +VI.--The Solution + +VII.--The Adventure Closes + + + + +PART I. + +_THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE ADVENTURE ON THE SANDS. + + +I came upon the place quite unexpectedly. Centuries of wind and wave had +carved a little nook out of the foot of the cliff and fashioned it so +cunningly that I did not see it until I was right on top of it. After +the warmth of the open beach and the glare of the white road I had +recently travelled its shade looked so inviting that I limped in under +the overhang of the cliff and dropped joyfully on to the cool patch of +sand. It was the first moment of contentment I had known for many weary +months, and, needless to say, I set myself out to make the most of it. I +was absolutely sick of tramping about. My left boot had burst and, by +the feel of it, there wasn't too much left of my right sole. I had been +crawling along the road since daylight--and for many days before for +that matter--searching for a job that failed to materialise. + +Jobs, it appeared, were just about as scarce as cool spots in Hades. +They had been very kind to me at the last farmhouse. The good lady had +given me an excellent breakfast and an extra glass of milk, had loaded +my bedraggled pockets with food and had finally put me on the road to +the sea. Work, she said, they could not give me. They had put off two +men the previous day. I might find something to do in the next town. She +did tell me what it was called, but my thoughts were on my own poor +prospects and I didn't quite catch what she said. On the principle that +a rose by any other name would still have its thorns, I didn't ask her +to repeat it. I just said, "Thank you, ma'am," in my best tramp manner +and set off down the road to the sea. On the way my left boot burst and +a pebble worked in through the opening and set me limping. To make +matters worse the day was perhaps the hottest of all that memorable +summer, and the glare from the white grit of the road played the devil +with my eyes. I was very pleased when at length I reached the low sand +dunes and dropped between them on to the wet sand of the beach. I walked +along this aimlessly for a mile or so until the big hump of the bluff +rose up over me. Then, as I have already related, I came across that +heaven-sent cave and threw my weary length on its damp flooring of sand, +determined to snatch as much peace and repose as I could before I +continued my search for work. + +I can't say for the life of me how long it was before I first sat up and +took notice of the fat little man. He was bobbing up and down in the +surf for all the world like some ungainly porpoise, and every time he +moved he shot sunlit streams of water off his gross body. I've seen fat +men in my time, but this one was just about the limit. He was all up and +down and then across. I know that doesn't quite explain what he looked +like, but it's about the only way I can describe him. He was short and +tubby; if he had been any shorter he would have been a human +Humpty-Dumpty. He was so obviously enjoying himself and getting the best +out of his gambols in the water that my heart went out to him. He was +ducking and splashing about, rolling and wallowing in a way that +reminded me of a hippopotamus I had once shot at--and missed--in happier +if not more spacious days spent on the lower Nile. "The Hippo" I +christened him, and then chuckled to myself at the singular +appropriateness of the name. + +Even his bathing dress seemed designed expressly to add to his +rotundity. It was one of those queer garments bearing a faint +resemblance to a convict's uniform, and the wide stripes of it went +round and round his figure like hoops on a barrel. It was so funny that +I chuckled again and forgot all about my burning feet and my burst boot. + +Presently he stopped his antics and looked over my way. He gave one +glance at me, and then started to run inshore with short, jumpy little +steps. Something seemed to have struck him all of a sudden, and I was +just beginning to wonder what the deuce it could be when, out of the +corner of my eyes, I caught sight of a pile of neatly folded clothes +thrust into the cleft of the rock a little above my head. I began to +understand then. I looked more disreputable than I really was; my suit +was in the last stages of ruinous decay, while his brand-new clothes +just above me would have been a gift from the gods to a man with less +conscience and more figure than I possessed. He evidently presumed on +the strength of my proximity that I had evil designs on his clothes, but +he needn't have troubled himself. If I could judge anything from his own +figure I would have been completely lost in them. I didn't like to +confirm his suspicions by running away now that I found I was observed, +so I just sat there and waited for him. There was a piece of something +that looked very like driftwood protruding from the sand close to me, +and I kicked idly at it as he came pounding up the beach. It was set +loosely in the sand, and a more accurate kick than usual knocked it out +of its resting-place. Something queer about it caught my eye, and I bent +over to pick it up. + +"Whatever else it is, it isn't driftwood," I said to myself. "I'll +bet----," and then I stopped short, for I remembered that my sole +worldly wealth at the moment consisted of exactly three pennies. All the +same I was right about it. Driftwood doesn't get the dry rot, nor does +it come ashore covered with rich black loam. + +"Somebody's planted it here," was my next thought, and my mind strayed +to the panting bulk of a man who was thundering down on top of me. + +"It's his, I suppose," I said, and looked up at him. At that precise +instant he tripped and fell full length on the sand. I've seen a good +many lucky escapes in my day--a man who has travelled the out-of-the-way +places of the world from the Yukon and the White Nile down to the +headwaters of the Fly River in the snow-mountains of Dutch New Guinea +does see a bit of life--but the way that fat chap upset himself into the +sand was the most wonderful piece of good fortune I ever came across. He +must have missed death by a fraction of an inch. I saw him fall, heard +the shot ring out and watched the sand spurt up all in the one crowded +second. The next moment I was running towards him, my hand moving +instinctively to my empty pistol-pocket. But my mind readjusted itself +in a flash, and I recollected that I wasn't dodging cannibals in the +upper reaches of the Mambare, but was living in a civilised country +where a man who carries a revolver, and gets caught at it, is fined more +money than I'd seen in the last twelve months. + +The other chap seemed to divine instinctively that I was a friend, for +he yelled at me even while he was hauling himself up from the sand. + +"There's one in my pocket," he shouted and gesticulated back towards his +clothes. + +I didn't waste a moment, but sped over the intervening yards like a man +possessed. As luck would have it his coat was the first thing I grabbed, +and the weight of it told me at once in which pocket to look. I plunged +my hand in and drew out the sweetest little automatic it has ever been +my lot to handle. As a rule I prefer a Colt--in my experience it never +jams--but I rather fancied my present weapon would do all that was +required, so I slipped back the safety catch with my thumb and whirled +round on my heel to face whatever was coming. + +The overture was already over and the invisible marksman had settled +down to steady firing. The fat man was now almost on top of me, and I +saw instantly that that brought me right into the line of fire. It takes +a long time in the telling, but, as I figured it out afterwards, from +the instant the first shot missed the old chap down to the moment I +pulled the trigger, more than half a minute could not have elapsed. + +There was only one place in sight where a man could take cover, and that +was a bunch of rocks just a little to the left of my position. I let off +a fancy shot in that direction, and a second later the reply rang out. +The cliff overhead shed a shower of dust on top of the pair of us, and +the fat man crouched into the corner. I knew now where my man was, so I +waited until he exposed himself, as I saw he must do when he fired +again. + +"Gimme the gun!" the fat man demanded in the interval. + +"Shut up!" I said, without turning my head. "I'm a better shot than you, +I reckon, and, anyway, it's just as much my funeral now as yours. He's +had a shot at me, and that's a thing I don't forgive in a hurry." + +"Well, of all the----," I heard him say, and then the rest of his remark +was drowned in the report of my weapon. I had spotted a white wrist back +of a gleam of polished metal and, taking a sporting chance, I let drive. +The other man's gun dropped to the sand, and a yell told me that I had +made no mistake. + +"Here's where I come in," I said, and, forgetting the condition of my +feet, I sprinted towards the rocks. But the other fellow had decided +that the place was getting too hot for him, and he made off along the +sand as fast as his legs could carry him. He must have been in excellent +trim, for he shot along the heavy track as if he was running on the +cinder-path, and I saw before I had gone fifty yards that I hadn't a +chance in the world of catching him. Also there were half a dozen black +specks of men a mile or so along the beach, and my reason told me that +homicide before witnesses wasn't likely to prove a healthy pastime. So I +swallowed my pride and, consoling myself with the thought that some day +we might meet again, I wheeled about and made back to the nook. + +The fat chap had shed his bathing suit and was climbing into his clothes +when I arrived. He beamed at me and his whole face crinkled into smiles. +I was so afraid that he was going to make a silly speech that I pushed +his automatic into his hands and said, "You'd better take this, old man. +The other party's in swift retreat and, from the condition of his wrist, +I don't fancy you'll receive another billet-doux for some time to come." + +"Well, I'm hanged if you're not the coolest chap I've ever laid eyes +on," the fat man said admiringly. + +"You were nearer being shot," I hinted, "and, if you don't mind me +saying so, the sooner you struggle into those clothes of yours and get +home to mother, the safer you'll be. I don't object to fighting for you +once in a while, but I'll see you further before I make a habit of it." + +"Um!" said the fat man, "I'm sorry. I'd hoped to persuade you to take it +on permanently." + +I thought at first that he was joking, but the way he looked at me +showed that he was in deadly earnest. For all his flippancy there was +something back of his eyes, a trace of fear that kept peeping out every +now and then, that told me he went in danger of his life. I hated to +have to refuse him, but I had very good reasons, which I intended to +keep to myself, too, for not putting my life into danger too often. So I +told him point-blank that if he wanted to hire a bodyguard he'd have to +go somewhere else. He wasn't as put out at my reply as I would have +expected. Instead he smiled up at me--for all his bulk I towered over +him--and there was a touch of gameness in that smile that I rather +liked. I couldn't help telling him just what I thought. + +"I don't think you want anyone to look after you," I said. "You're as +game as they make 'em. I'm pretty used to reading men--I've been in +places where my life depended on my ability in that direction--and when +I see a fellow smile like you're smiling now, you can take it from me +that he's grit all through." + +"They'll get me yet," he said with a sigh. "I'm handicapped, you see. I +couldn't have sprinted along the beach the way you did. I'd have +wheezed. Bellows gone and all that, you know. Too much fat, the doctor +says." + +"Now, you're just about right there. I don't like to be personal, but +now you mention it, you don't seem to have the cut of an athlete." + +"And you have," he said, as he insinuated himself into his collar. It +was a trifle too small for his neck, and he had to coax it a lot before +he got both ends to meet. "You're the type of man I take to instantly, +Mr. ----." + +He asked me a question with his eyes. + +"Well," I said in answer, "if it's any use to you my name's Carstairs, +Jimmy Carstairs at that, and I'm an explorer by inclination, gentleman +by instinct, and the rolling-stone-that-gathers-no-moss by sheer force +of unlovely circumstance. Now you know all that I intend to tell you +about myself." + +"Um!" he said again. "I had better introduce myself, I suppose. I fancy +my card-case's in my coat pocket." + +"Don't trouble about a card," I said airily. "I'm not at all fussy. I'm +quite willing to take your word for it." + +There was a twinkle in his eye, as he replied, that showed he rather +appreciated my cheap wit. "Bryce is my name," he said. "You may have +heard of it?" + +"Can't say I have," I told him, "though I'm pretty certain to see it +often if you make a practice of keeping up this guerilla warfare." + +It wasn't a nice thing to say, but then I'm never very particular, and +if my listeners don't like my remarks they're always welcome to change +the subject. When all's said and done there was more in that last jab of +mine than met the ear. I wanted very much to know why that sharpshooter +should be so extremely anxious to put him out of action. Also he had +said "they." There had only been one man behind the rocks, and I could +have sworn on a stack of Bibles that there wasn't another human +being--with the sole exception of the men a mile or so along the +beach--within coo-ee at the time. "You've been there before, my friend," +I thought. "This isn't the first time you've flushed a chap with a bit +of hardware." From what I could see Bryce hadn't the slightest intention +of making me as wise as himself and even the broad hint I gave him +didn't seem to move him in the least. He surveyed me steadily for the +scrag-end of a minute and then his left eyelid flickered. I knew right +enough what that wink meant. It said as plainly as could be that dead +men tell no tales and wise men follow their example. + +"Now, Mr. Bryce," I said, "I like your company and it pains me to leave +you, but I can't stop here for ever. I've got an important engagement at +the next town and the sooner I get there the better. Under the +circumstances you'll have to excuse me." + +He didn't tell me that I was a liar but he went pretty close to it. "The +next town's Geelong," he said, "and it's a good fourteen miles away. You +might have sprinted along that sand in record time when somebody's life +was trembling in the balance, but that doesn't say you can walk fourteen +miles on a rotten road on a broiling hot day. And if I wished to be as +personal as you are I'd point out that a burst boot doesn't help make +the way any easier." + +"Bowled out first shot," I told him. "What's your little game?" + +"To use your own inimitable phraseology, my little game amounts to this. +I've taken a violent fancy to you, Carstairs, and I want to keep you by +me. I don't think your luck's been too good lately, but between us I +fancy we can mend it. If you want to go into Geelong all you've got to +do is wait and come with me. I'm going back shortly, and I'm sure you'd +feel much better riding in a motor than travelling on foot." + +"Now you mention it," I said, "I can't see why I shouldn't. The only +trouble is that some of your excitable friends might see me in your +company and include me in the sudden-death stakes." + +"Quite likely," Bryce said, with a smile. "I wouldn't be at all +surprised if they hid behind a convenient hedge and potted us as we +passed. But you needn't come if that's what you're afraid of." + +"I'll forgive you this time," I rattled on, "just because you've had +such an exciting experience, but don't ever hint anything like that +again. I don't know what fear's like." + +"Self-praise," said Bryce, "is sometimes the highest form of +recommendation. At any rate it shows you've overcome fear, if only the +fear of criticism. But to be serious, Carstairs, there's trouble ahead +of both of us. My pursuers are getting very game, tackling me in front +of a third person, and I've got a funny sort of feeling that they'll +catch me napping one of these days. No matter what you say or do, you +can't alter the fact that you've identified yourself with me, and that +means that you're running just the same amount of danger that I am. You +don't look too prosperous yourself. What about joining forces with me +and sharing the plunder? Of course I can make it worth your while." + +"Plunder," I said. "What do you mean! Are you running up against the +law?" + +"If it's any relief to you to know it, I'm not. I rather fancy I've got +the law on my side." + +"I was merely enquiring what inducements you had to offer. What do you +call 'making it worth my while?'" + +When I turned down his first tentative offer I had quite made up my mind +that he wanted to engage me as a sort of super-butler with sudden death +included amongst the risks of service, and I had no intention of mixing +up in other people's quarrels on such terms. When I questioned him +directly about it I got a pleasant surprise. + +"Well, my idea of making it worth your while is something like £100 for +three months. That's about as long as I'll require you. After that you +can 'go to hell or to Connaught,' whichever you prefer." + +"That's nice hearing," I told him. "And, I suppose, any time I take an +extra risk I get something _pour boire_?" + +He nodded cheerfully. + +"That's my offer, Carstairs," he said. "What do you say to it?" + +"It's so damned alluring," I answered, "that I'm frightened to look at +it too close. I don't mind admitting that I'm about as hard up as I can +be. As a matter of fact I've not the least idea where I'm going to get +my next meal. All of which makes your offer doubly inviting. But I don't +want to jump at it in hot blood. I want time to think it over. I want to +stand off and wave my hat at it and say, 'Scat, you brute!' and see if +it'll shoo off. I'm frightened that it's not real, and that I'll take it +on and then wake up. Will you give me time to wake up?" + +"If you'll drive in with me the two of us can dine together," Bryce +suggested. "That ought to give you time to wake up." + +"I can't ask anything fairer than that," I agreed. "When do we start?" + +"No time like the present. I've got the car paddocked down near the +reserve. It's only a matter of walking around the bluff. Come on." + +I went along with him without comment, though I noticed that the last +thing he did was to bend down and pick up the piece of wood which had so +excited my curiosity earlier in the proceedings. It was small enough to +slip into his pocket, and this he did without a word either of apology +or explanation. + +"It's a mighty innocent piece of wood," I thought, "but I'll bet all +Australia to an albatross that it's mixed up in the plot." + +As we moved around the foot of the bluff I couldn't help turning the +situation over in my mind. Half an hour before I had been a wanderer on +the face of the earth, a man with no special abilities and no +outstanding vices. In that short space of time I had saved one man's +life, nearly taken that of another, and seemed in a fair way to make +money out of my twin attributes of steady nerves and good shooting. I +was still thinking in this strain when we rounded the bluff and +commenced to crawl across the intervening stretch of spinifex grass. I +say "crawl" advisedly. Bryce was far too heavy to do more than lumber +along and my feet were steadily getting worse. The spinifex grew +knee-high and its roots extended in all directions. They were hard, +knobby things that protruded through the loose sand, and every time I +took my attention off the ground for an instant I stubbed my toe against +one or the other of them. Bryce panted and puffed and wheezed and seemed +more like an hippopotamus than ever. Whatever might be the gain as far +as decency was concerned, his clothes, from a spectacular point of view, +made him look worse than ever. His collar was tight, and that made his +face the color of a scraped carrot, and his coat and trousers clung to +him in the most unexpected places--just where they shouldn't. + +To make a long story short, we came at last to the edge of the spinifex, +and thence dropped steadily down into the hollow that contained the +reserve. I picked out Bryce's car right off. It was painted a battleship +grey, and if cars can have a personality, this had such another as its +owner. It wasn't slim--there was nothing of the racer about it. It was +squatly built and had just the same heavy and humorous look as Bryce +himself. It stood out from the other cars like a hunch-back amongst a +line of athletes. + +"That's my car," said Bryce proudly. "She's not much to look at, but +she's just the sweetest runner you've seen." + +I nodded. I was quite open to conviction. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AN OLD FRIEND. + + +Hitherto events had moved so swiftly that I hadn't had time to look +calmly at the situation, but once we settled down in the car and Barwon +Heads dropped into the dust behind us, I began to think rather +seriously. It was perfectly obvious, even to a more clouded intelligence +than mine, that there was something mysterious, if not shady, about my +prospective employer. Despite his assurance that the law was on his +side, I had grave doubts. If everything was perfectly square and above +board why the deuce didn't he report the affair to the police and give +them the task of looking after him, instead of hiring me at an +exorbitant wage? He seemed anxious to fight shy of publicity in any +shape or form and, though he had been very cordial, even familiar with +me, his very apparent frankness and joviality had awakened my +suspicions. There was something fishy going on, and that something, +whatever it was, centred round the piece of wood that I had so casually +kicked out of the sand. It struck me all of a heap that nothing had +really begun to happen until I had unearthed it. As soon as Bryce had +seen where I was sitting, he had started to run inshore, the other man +had stationed himself behind the rocks, the curtain had been rung up and +the play had begun. Now the question was what part did the piece of wood +play in the game? Bryce, I felt sure, could clear the mystery up with a +word, but I was certain that it would be long before he would say that +word. + +The car was all and more than he had said. It had speed, it was +comfortable, and its mechanism was far less complicated than any I had +yet seen. We ate up distance in fine style. Bryce seemed to have no +nerves at all, for more than once he tore round corners on two wheels +while I clung to the side of the car and swore at him. He grinned +cheerfully over his shoulder at me and asked me if I were nervous. + +I laughed back at him with as much _sang-froid_ as I could muster. I had +no objection to risking my life once in a while when there was good pay +at the end of it, but I couldn't see the sense of tempting Providence +just for the sheer fun of the thing. Of course, if we did spill, it +would be all right with Bryce--he was so fat that he'd just bounce--but +I was slimmer, and I knew from experience that I had very brittle bones. +Once in the Solomons, when a wild boar charged me, I lay for weeks in a +trader's hut waiting for an obdurate fracture to knit up again. Some +idea of the furious pace at which Bryce pushed the car along can be +guessed from the fact that we did the fourteen miles in something over +twenty minutes. It had been quite half-past eleven when we left the +Heads, and the clock in the car wanted a few minutes to twelve when we +sailed over the bridge and up Moorabool-street. We cleared a stationary +tram by inches, twisted in an S curve to avoid a farmer's waggon and +then, with a heart-rending grind, Bryce threw over his clutch and slowed +down to a snail-like crawl of ten miles an hour. + +"This asphalt paving makes a great motor track," Bryce said to me, "but +there's speed-laws in existence here. That's the trouble of it. When a +man has a nice track he's interfered with, and when there isn't anyone +to meddle with him it's ten to one that he's crawling over something +like a corduroy road." + +"Corduroy!" I said, and sat up and looked at him. I knew what he meant. +Any man who has ever travelled the heart-breaking log-roads of the +interior New Guinea goldfields does not need to be told what 'corduroy' +is. It is an ever-present memory, an astonishment and a nightmare. Bryce +did not speak from hearsay--the note in his voice told me that--but was +talking from experience garnered at great cost, both of money and +energy. + +"Corduroy," he repeated after me. "Doesn't that sound familiar to you, +Carstairs?" + +"It does," I said with emphasis. "But how the deuce----?" And then I +stopped dead. Bryce? Bryce? What was familiar about that name? Bryce and +New Guinea and----. I had it. And Walter Carstairs. + +"Ever heard of Walter Carstairs?" I questioned. + +"The minute I heard your name I knew you," Bryce said. "Ever heard of +Walter Carstairs? Why, he was the best friend I ever had. He saved my +life in the early days of the Woodlarks." + +"According to the Dad," I said, looking him straight in the face, "it +was the other way about." + +He laughed happily. "Jimmy, I'm losing my memory if that's so. But +whatever happened to him? I lost sight of him the last ten years or so." + +"You would," I answered. "He stuck to the Islands. He had a life's work +planned out, but he got cut-off in the Solomons before he had reached +finality. I carried it on after that, came all the way from the Klondyke +to take it up. I got through but it took every penny I had, and that's +why this morning when I came across you I only had a boot and a half to +my feet." + +"Well, well," he said kindly, "that's all changed now." + +"I don't know so much about it," I told him. "You might have been the +best friend the Dad ever had, but that doesn't say you're going to keep +me. What I get I work for. I'll take charity from no man living." + +Again he laughed, and his fat face crinkled up into little rolls of +flesh until he looked as if he had double chins all the way up to his +eyes. I knew now why he had been so familiar with me earlier in the day. +He was a sunny-natured old chap always, even in the hard, toilsome New +Guinea days, and I suppose his heart went out to me as the son of an old +comrade in arms, doubly so--perhaps because I had saved his life. On the +whole I rather wished I hadn't. It complicated matters so. It made me +feel bound to give him a hand, whether his enterprise was shady or not. + +If he had turned to me then and said, "I suppose I can count on you all +right?" I would have been torn between duty and inclination. He did +nothing of the sort. He made no reference to his offer of service, in +fact he seemed to have completely forgotten it, and I thought it just as +well to say nothing. The way he forebore from seizing a perfectly +obvious advantage sent him up fifty per cent. in my estimation, and by +the time we had reached the heart of the city I was quite willing to do +anything he asked me. + +"I'll park the car," he said, "and then we'll go off and have some +dinner." + +"Will we?" I said and eyed my tattered raiment ruefully. "I don't fancy +I'm dressed for dinner." + +"Um!" he said. "You're not. I'd quite overlooked that. That bars a +public dinner. I don't fancy you'll be able to make much of one if you +come down to my place. The cook's away. I didn't expect to be back so +soon." + +"Cook or no cook," I told him, "if you've got anything eatable in the +house I'll guarantee to turn it up right. Give me the run of the kitchen +and put me next to the meat-safe, and you'll see wonders. I don't know +how you feel, but I'm so hungry that I'd make a meal off a pair of kid +boots." + +"In that case, Carstairs, I think I'd better take you home and see what +sort of a culinary expert you are." + +With that he twisted the car about and headed out for the eastern +suburbs. The place was unfamiliar to me at the time--I hadn't the +faintest idea of the street the man lived in--and in the face of what +happened later I made no enquiries. As a matter of fact the rush of +events crowded all such petty details out of my mind. + +"Can you drive a car?" he asked abruptly. + +"I can drive anything but an Andean mule," I told him. "I tried once in +the Chilian foot-hills, but after the animal dislocated my shoulder I +sort of lost heart." + +"I gather from the retiring modesty of your last remark," he smiled, +"that you consider yourself an expert as regards all other forms of +animal and mechanical traction." + +"Quite so. I can always do anything on principle, and I've yet to meet +the job that I'm unwilling to tackle!" + +He glanced sideways at me. I didn't like the look he gave me. There was +too much of appraisement in it, something that was alien to the nature +of the man, a sort of cold, calculating shrewdness that made me wonder +again if I had not been mistaken in my estimate of him and the extent of +his good-nature. + +"If you keep on admiring me instead of looking where you're going," I +hinted, "you'll end up in a funeral. That motor-bus isn't the sort of +thing I'd care to hit." + +He twisted the wheel over a fraction and edged out beyond the motor-bus +before he replied. "Life is full of thrills," he remarked when at last +we reached the comparative security of open space. There was a challenge +in his voice that I thought it well to ignore. + +"It is," I agreed. "Too much so." + +For all the lightness of his speech and the careless ease with which he +took unnecessary and avoidable risks I had a feeling that there was deep +design under everything he did. Though I couldn't have proved it if I'd +been asked, I felt sure that he was trying my nerve. After all there's +no better test of that than the crowded traffic of a big city. I've met +men who'd cheerfully face a crowd of howling cannibals and yet would +develop a very bad case of jumps if asked to cross a street roaring and +humming with traffic. Yes, clearly he was testing me. + +With a jerk that nearly shot me out of my seat the car pulled up. I +stared about me. We had stopped outside a substantial red-tiled house, +built in the bungalow fashion. There was a well-kept lawn in front of +it, with here and there a trim flower-bed to relieve the monotony of the +expanse of grass. + +"This is the place," Bryce said. "Just slip down and open that gate, +will you?" + +He gesticulated towards a six-foot gate at the side of the house. From +my position in the car I could see that it opened on a path that ran +round the side of the building and almost certainly led to the garage. +Accordingly I slipped out on the road, walked up to the gate and found +that, by standing on tip-toe, I could just reach the catch at the top. I +swung it back, pushed with my weight against the erection and the gate +came open. + +As I turned to come back to the car I caught sight of a man standing on +the opposite corner. He was engaged in lighting a cigarette in the cup +of his hands. He seemed to be taking an undue time over it, and that and +something that I could not put a name to in his attitude convinced me +that he was watching us. His hands were so cupped that they hid his +face, but I received an impression, that was almost a certainty, that he +was watching Bryce and myself through his fingers. Perhaps my prolonged +stare convinced him that I was fully aware of his presence and its +meaning. At any rate he twisted on his heel so that his back was turned +to us, dropped the match he had been playing with and ostentatiously +struck another. + +"That gentleman across the road, the one with his back to us, is keeping +your house under surveillance," I said to Bryce. "I suppose he's afraid +the place'll run away." + +"Afraid I'll run away, more likely," Bryce answered. "Evidently he +doesn't want to be identified next time we meet. But he needn't worry +over that; I wouldn't know him from a bar of soap. We'll leave him alone +for the time being, Carstairs, and get this machine in. I don't see any +reason why we should let this gentleman delay our dinner." + +"No more do I. Let her out." + +I stood on the step of the car until it had passed the entrance in +safety, then I went back and made the gate fast. But before doing so I +just couldn't resist taking a peep at the Roman sentry figure of a man +opposite. He was staring straight at the gate--as if that was going to +help him in any way--but he was pretty alert. The moment he sighted me +he wheeled about and walked off in another direction. But, quick and all +as he was, I caught a passing glimpse of him. He had on a blue serge +suit, a rather cheap affair as well as I could judge at that distance, +and a black felt hat. Somehow I got the impression, though I was too far +away to say anything with certainty, that he was not so much sallow as +sunburnt. It was more than likely that he had not got a good look at +me--in that case he would not know me again, as I flattered myself that +there was nothing very distinctive about me. Still, as that marksman +behind the rocks must have been taking stock of me for some considerable +while, I realised that no definite advantage would accrue from the fact +that one of the gang might not be able to identify me. I had no means of +ascertaining how many there were in the organisation, and something +warned me not to display too much interest in Bryce's presence. When I +walked down the path and discovered him backing the car into his garage +I made no comment on the situation beyond telling him that the spy had +gone temporarily out of business and was at present taking a +constitutional down the street. + +"All we can do then," Bryce said, "is to let him depart in peace and +trust that nothing happens. I wouldn't like any of that bunch to be cut +off in the midst of their sins. I've got another end mapped out for +them." + +"If you figure me in on that, you're mighty mistaken," I said to myself. +"I'm the first line of defence, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to carry +the war into the enemy's country." + +I needn't have been so cocksure about it, for as will shortly be related +that was just exactly what I did do. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF MR. BRYCE. + + +I made an excellent dinner. Bryce's kitchen and the meat-safes attached +proved on investigation to contain enough food for a family. First of +all I had a wash, and then when I felt a little more presentable, I dug +up a frying-pan, asked Bryce if he liked sausages and, being told that +he did, thanked Heaven that his tastes were similar to mine and set +about cooking them. Now I like my sausages fried nice and crisp, but I +have yet to find the lodging-house keeper this side of Gehenna who can +fry anything without burning it to a cinder. Though I don't wish to +crack up my own work, I'll say this for it--that, if I do like things +done any particular way, I can always be sure of pleasing myself if I do +the cooking. + +I cooked with one eye on the gas-stove and the other on Bryce. I had +scarcely set to work before he wandered into the kitchen, found the +nail-brush or whatever it was that the cook used for cleaning the pots, +washed the black loam off the piece of wood which had so excited my +curiosity earlier in the day, and then commenced to scrub it. He used up +an inordinate amount of soap and quite a lot of elbow-grease, but when +he had finished the wood looked as if it had just been newly cut and +trimmed. What took my attention about it was that it was covered from +end to end with queer little marks or scratches. These seemed to +interest Bryce very much, for he pored over them like an antiquary who +has discovered a new kind of hieroglyphics. He got so interested in them +that he forgot my presence altogether. Once when I asked him some simple +question about the dinner he jumped as if he were shot, colored up and +then said, "Oh, I beg your pardon. What did you say?" + +I repeated my question and he answered me as if his thoughts were miles +away. He was wide-awake enough when I walked over to the kitchen sink on +some errand or another to slip the wood into his pocket and face me with +a look in his eye that said as plainly as so many words, "You're not +going to steal a march on me, my lad. That's for my eyes alone." Only +once during the dinner-hour did he say anything that stuck in my memory. +On this occasion he turned to me and asked, "Can you use a typewriter?" + +"Now, he's going to make a private secretary of me," I thought. "I won't +bite." So I looked him straight in the eye and unblushingly answered +that I couldn't use one if I tried and hoped he didn't want me to learn, +as I was sure I'd only make a mess of it. He seemed rather relieved at +that and later in the afternoon, when I heard the "tick-tack" of his +machine drifting out from the room in which he had locked himself, I +began to wonder just what he had been driving at. + +He drifted out to the kitchen later on and asked me to light the fire +for him. I did so and he watched it blaze up, and as soon as he was sure +that it was well alight he drew that inevitable piece of wood from his +pocket, soaked it in kerosene and dropped it into the heart of the fire. +I'm hanged if he didn't sit there and watch it until it had burnt into a +charred heap of ashes. While he had been attending to it he had left a +sheet of typewritten paper down on the table and as he turned to get it +it fluttered to the floor. I was the nearer to it so I picked it up and +handed it to him. As I did so I caught a glimpse of the characters that +covered most of it. I got just the one look at them, but one line I +noticed ran somehow like this-- + +--3¼½743 ½3:3; "335 "49--5@3 3¼½534; 3; £ + +He looked at me queerly as he took the paper. "Have you ever done any +timber measurements?" he asked. + +"None at all," I answered promptly, and this time I told the truth. + +"You wouldn't understand this then," he ran on, indicating the paper, +though he was careful not to let me have another look at it. + +"I saw some of it," I said off-handedly, as if it were no affair of +mine, "and it looked to me like the sort of thing a mathematician would +see if he ever got the willies." + +"You have a most expressive way of putting things, Carstairs," he said +with a smile. There was more than humor in that smile; there was +something in it that looked remarkably like relief. + +"I can't stand figures of any sort," I volunteered with a fervent hope +in my heart that I wasn't over-doing my part. "A sheet of them'd just +about give me the D.Ts." + +He laughed out loud at that and then, expressing a hope that I would +make myself at home, he padded out of the room. It was astonishing how +quietly he could walk when he was moving about the house. For all his +gross bulk there was something furtive and cat-like about him that told +me just how insistent must be the menace of a sudden death. He moved so +silently that I never knew he was there until I looked up and saw him. +He glided from room to room like some obese ghost. At first it got on my +nerves, but pretty soon I settled down to it, and in a day or so got +quite used to seeing a silent bulk sliding noiselessly about the house, +appearing at all sorts of odd times in all sorts of queer places. + +The cook returned about 5 o'clock and seemed rather inclined to take up +a high-handed attitude with me, until a few well-chosen words from her +master quietened her down a little. She was not slow to show me in other +ways that she regarded me as an intruder in the house, and if any one +thing about me was more preferable than another it was my room rather +than my company. Still as I kept out of her way as much as possible, and +as my sole duties consisted in keeping an eye on all strangers that +approached the place and in listening for any unaccountable sounds, I +came into conflict with her very seldom. + +Matters progressed so quietly for the next couple of days that I began +to wonder whether I had not fallen into a sinecure after all. Bryce had +procured me a decent outfit so that I was now my own man again, ready to +argue the right-of-way with all comers. Added to that my feet were well +on the mend and my general health was keeping pretty near to the +top-notch mark, so I wasn't finding life such a bad thing after all. +Bryce worried me but little. At times I went odd messages for him, but +all my trips were so arranged that I was never away from the house more +than half an hour at a time. The more I thought over the mystery +surrounding him the deeper and more inexplicable it became. I knew of +whom he was afraid, but I had no more idea of the reason of his fear +than I had of the name of the man in the moon. My occupation was more +reminiscent of revolutionary South America than of a civilised country, +and the thought of it set me wondering whether Bryce had ever lived +amongst the volatile Latins on the other side of the Pacific. Come to +think of it the one man I had seen closely had been a dark type. It was +just barely possible that Bryce had somehow tangled himself in something +of the kind. But then that cipher business--I was fully convinced by now +that it was some original kind of cryptogram--rather pointed the other +way. One of the things I had noticed had been a £ sign, and anything +dealing with any of the Latin Republics would almost assuredly have been +written with a $ sign. Ultimately I came to the conclusion that I had +been barking up the wrong tree. + +I jotted down the figures that I remembered, but I must have had some of +the signs down wrong, for, try as I would, I could make nothing out of +them. As a matter of fact the solution was so simple that in the end I +only stumbled on it by accident. + +Bryce had a bad habit of locking himself in his room for hours at a +time, and it occurred to me that such a course wasn't in his own +interest any more than mine, so I tackled him about it at the first +opportunity. + +"Here you are," I said, "paying me for being a mixture of Swiss Guard +and watch-dog, but for all the looking-after you get I might as well be +miles away. I don't want to be hanging on to your skirts every ten +minutes or so, but doesn't it strike you as a reasonable man that you're +inviting trouble by locking yourself in so securely?" + +"I do that so I won't be disturbed," he urged. + +"That's a reason that cuts both ways," I said. "Suppose somebody +happened to be in the room when you arrived. Don't you see that he could +do all he wanted to do without being disturbed either." + +"But you'd hear any uncommon noise," Bryce objected. + +"Maybe I would and then maybe I wouldn't. I'm not infallible, you know, +and anyway it's quite possible that any visitor you had wouldn't make a +row at all. And while I'm on it, wouldn't it be just as well to give me +a sketch of the plot? I'm working in the dark as it is, but, if I had +some idea of what's at the back of all this, I might be able to look +after you better." + +"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said slowly, and for the first time +since we had met he eyed me with suspicion. There was doubt in his +glance, the sort of doubt that a man does not care to see in the eyes of +a friend. I saw that I had made a radical mistake in even hinting that I +wished to know his secret, and I hastened to make what amends I could. + +"I'm sorry," I said, "if you look at it in that way. I was only doing it +for your own good. You're paying what's an enormous sum to me, and I'm +trying to justify your expenditure. If I know your enemies and all about +them, I can certainly plan level and, maybe, occasionally outguess them. +That's the only thing I had in mind when I spoke, and if I gave you any +other impression I'm sorry I said what I did." + +He moved his shoulders in a kind of half-shrug. It was at once a gesture +of relief and of dismissal, so without more ado I said, "If there's +nothing further you want, I'll make off now. If you want me any time +I'll be pottering around the house somewhere." + +"Well, there is something I'd like you to do, Jim," he said. "I want +half-a-dozen parish maps. Here's the list of them"--he handed me a piece +of paper with a few names scribbled on the back--"and here's the money. +Go down to the Lands Department and they'll fix you up. Mind that they +are large scale maps, the largest they've got. You'd better take the +car, and don't be any longer than you can help." + +"It's a twenty minutes' run at the outside," I said. "I won't waste any +time." + +He nodded quite cheerfully to me and went into his room. I heard the key +grate in the lock as I walked down the passage and I remember saying to +myself, "That habit's going to get him into trouble yet." + +I reached the office in record time. They had some trouble in finding +the maps I wanted--most of them were of parishes situated around the +foot of the Grampians--but in the end they produced some that I fancied +would suit my man. My twenty minutes' limit had almost expired and, as +it is a matter of pride with me to be punctual, I let the car out a +little. That, I suppose, was my undoing, for just as I crossed over the +busiest street a motor-lorry swerved out and nearly collided with me. I +did some very neat wheel-work, but my new course took me right across to +the gutter, and before I had quite realised what had happened I had +speared my tyre with a jagged piece of glass. The tyre popped off with a +report like that of a small revolver, and the next second I was bumping +on the frame. I pulled up as quickly as I could, but the mischief was +done and the tyre was just one great rip from end to end. Luckily I +carried a spare wheel, but I am an unhandy man at the merely mechanical +part of the work, and I took twice as long over it as a professional +would have. By the time I was ready to start again my twenty minutes had +lengthened into an hour, and somehow the knowledge of that worried me. + +I packed my tools anyhow, hopped back into the car and threw over my +clutch. The car started with a little jerk that I didn't quite relish, +and on looking over the side I saw that the new wheel was wobbling, not +very much indeed, but just enough to show me that I had bungled my work. +I immediately cut down my speed and proceeded for the rest of the +journey at something closely approaching a snail's pace. + +"Now," I said to myself, "if this was in a novel I'd say that the lorry +cut across my path deliberately. But as this is in real life and the +lorry belongs to a firm of respectable grocers it can't be anything else +but just my own darned bad luck." + +I dismissed the incident at that and turned my attention to my driving. +I had no intention of mixing myself up in another such accident if I +could possibly avoid it, and now that I had definitely taken service +with Bryce I felt I owed it to him to exercise all reasonable care. +After my first few spasmodic attempts at resistance I had succumbed +rather quickly to his enticing offer. After all, I thought, I wouldn't +be putting myself in any greater danger than I had been in for the past +four years. I had faced sudden death in many shapes and forms during my +sojourn in the strange wild lands about the Line, so much so that, once +I had taken into account the money Bryce was giving me, the present +adventure rather degenerated into a pleasant little game of +hide-and-seek. + +I was still turning this over in that portion of my mind which wasn't +occupied with the sheerly mechanical side of my work when I reached the +house. More from force of habit than from any other cause I cast my eyes +along the road, much as if it had been a forest trail that held secrets +only a woodsman could read. Plainly marked in the dust of the roadway +were the tracks of a vehicle that I instinctively knew to be a cab. It +had veered right in towards the kerb, and a moment's study convinced me +that it had stopped at Bryce's house. Now that meant that somebody had +arrived during my absence, and, as Bryce had said nothing to me about +expecting a visitor, I decided that the sooner I entered the house and +investigated the better for the safety of all concerned. I drove the car +into the garage in record time and darted into the house as if the devil +were at my heels. There wasn't a sound to be heard; even the eternal +clatter of the typewriter had ceased. With a caution born of experience +I tip-toed up the passage, all my senses instinctively on the alert. The +door of Bryce's room was still locked and everything, to all outward +seeming, was just as I had left it. I don't know what I had expected to +find in the passage, but the very apparent quietness of the place +sobered me considerably, and I realised abruptly on what a slender +foundation I had based my fears. If anything had happened during my +absence it was almost certain that I would have found some trace of it +in the hall, a rug disarranged, or a mat kicked away from the door. All +the odds were on Bryce working quietly behind the locked door. Yet of +all the foolish things in the world for me to think of the idea that +entered my mind just then was that something that concerned me very +intimately was being worked out in the room across the passage. + +I made one step forward and then I stopped abruptly. Some one else than +Bryce was in the room. Out of the silence came a voice, a woman's voice. +It was smooth and well-modulated, and there was the faintest touch of +music in it. In some curious way it touched a stray chord in my memory. +I knew at once that I had heard it before, but how or where I could no +more say than I could fly. Perhaps that was because its full notes were +muffled by the door that intervened. + +"I'd do anything," the woman said in the quietest tones imaginable, +"anything but that. You don't understand. If you knew all the +circumstances, if you knew just how and why we parted you wouldn't ask +me. I'm sorry for it all now, more sorry than you could believe, but you +can't expect me to take up things just where they left off--as if +nothing had happened." + +"Bryce's got a little romance tucked away up his sleeve," I thought. +"This sort of complicates matters. Wonder who the lady is?" + +"My dear girl," came the reply in Bryce's tones, softer and more +persuasive than I had ever heard them, "I know more perhaps than you +think. I'm doing this out of the fullness of my knowledge in the hope +that when I'm gone...." + +"Don't!" the woman interrupted sharply. "Don't talk like that!" + +"It's one of the things we've got to face," Bryce said gently. "I won't +live for ever anyway, and you know as well as I do just what chance I +run of having a period put to me ... any time now." The last three words +were spoken very slowly and distinctly, as if Bryce wished them to sink +into the mind of his companion. "You're the only person in the world +that I care a hang about," he continued with a note of indescribable +pathos in his voice, "and I'm doing all this for you ... and him." + +"But I tell you," the girl said with a little flash of anger, "I tell +you I won't have anything to do with him. If you bring him to the house +I'll cut him dead." + +"And put yourself doubly in the wrong and make it all the harder for +everybody," Bryce told her. + +There was a dogged note in the girl's voice as she replied. "I know I +was wrong, but I just can't do what you want. I can't say more than +that." + +"I'm sorry you look at things that way," Bryce said. "I had hoped...." I +did not catch the nature of his hope, for his voice dropped an octave or +so and his sentence ended in whispers. + +"Jimmy Carstairs," I said to myself, "you've been eavesdropping and you +know it. You mustn't be caught doing those kind of things. Get out of +the way as fast as you can," and at that I twisted round on my heel and +went back down the hall. I hadn't any desire to be caught listening to +conversations that were obviously not intended for me and that anyway +weren't of the least interest. So you can be sure that when I did return +up the hall I walked fairly heavily and coughed discreetly as soon as I +was within hearing distance of Bryce's room. + +The key turned in the lock of a sudden and the door was flung wide open. +The girl stood in her own light so that the shadows masked her face, but +the sun fell full on mine and my features must have been clearly visible +to her. + +"You!" she said, with a little catch in her voice. + +"Shut the door, please," I said, in the most matter-of-fact tones I +could muster. "Shut the door and come out here." + +I knew her now. God! Could I ever forget her? In a flash my mind flew +back through four years--or was it five?--to that evening when she had +caused my little world to rock and tremble, and then to fall in pieces +at my feet. I had loved her then--I thought I loved her more than +anything or anyone in this world--but a dying father's wish had come +between us. The poor old Dad had made a life study of the Islands--how +monumental a study it was let his three volumes of Solomon Island +Ethnology bear witness--yet he died before he had quite completed his +notes. Though he had said nothing to me I knew the wish that lay nearest +his heart, and I made his dying hour almost the happiest of his life by +promising to carry on his work. + +I remember the night I came out to tell her. The sky was streaked with +dead gold and cerise and warm-tinted clouds trailed across the heavens +like the ends of a scarf streaming from the neck of a hurrying woman. +All the world was gay that evening and I whistled as I went. She was +waiting at the gate as always she had waited for me. She greeted me with +a smile and some bright little remark that I forgot practically the +instant it was uttered. + +"I want to talk to you," I said; "I want to talk seriously." + +She smiled up at me, a trusting little smile as I thought. She had no +idea what was coming, but she always gave me my head in the things that +do not matter much. + +"What is it, Jim?" she asked. + +"It's this," I said, and then I told what I had promised. + +"But that," she protested, "means burying yourself in New Guinea and the +Solomons for four whole years." + +"It does," I said. "There is no other way." + +I had not been looking at her face--there had been no need, for I was +quite convinced that she would see things in a proper light--but now I +turned on her. To my surprise there was just the least little touch of +annoyance in her face. + +"You don't quite relish the idea," I said. + +"It's a very foolish idea," she said quite frankly. "I don't know what +you could have been thinking of." + +"I was thinking of my father," I told her. "I was making his last hour +happy, and he died in the knowledge that I would carry his work on to +the conclusion he had planned." + +"Are you going to see it through?" The abruptness of the question took +me aback. + +"Of course," I said. "What else could I do?" + +"Four years!" she said. "What is to become of me?" + +"The time will soon go by," I answered, "and then I'll come back to you +and everything will be right." + +"You seem to think of everyone but me," she said hotly. "You promised so +that your father would die easy, and that's the end of it. If you are +going to be bound by such a thing as that you're nothing more than an +impractical idealist." + +"I passed my word and a Carstairs never breaks a promise." + +"You mean that, Jim? You mean that you are going away to ... carry out +that absurd promise?" + +"It's not absurd," I declared. + +"I think it is," she said wilfully. "If you go, you need never come +back." + +"I am going," I said steadily. "As an honorable man there is no other +course open to me. I'm sorry that you look at it this way, but I can't +do anything else." + +"At last I know how much you think of me," she said with that little +touch of anger with which a woman always defends the indefensible. "You +never did care for me." + +"I do, I do," I protested. "Can't you see it?" + +"I can't see anything," she said stubbornly, "except that you'd do this +rather than listen to me. It shows all you think of me. Oh, I hate you! +I never, never want to see you again!" + +"Is that your last word?" I demanded. + +"Absolutely my last," she answered firmly. + +"Well," I said, "here's my last too. I'm going to carry out my promise, +and if a man had spoken to me about it as you have spoken to me to-night +I would have pulped his face." + +"I really believe you would," she said exasperatingly. "You see, Jim, +you were always something of a savage. That, I suppose, is why you are +so anxious to go to the Islands ... where the savages are." + +That was the very last word she had said to me, for the next moment the +gate was banged behind her and shut me out of her life. I was hurt, +badly hurt in my self-esteem, but my rising anger, burning hot within +me, kept me from feeling as bad as I might have felt. In two months' +time I landed at Tulagi on Florida Island, and for the next four years +or so the civilised world knew me not. I reached finality, but I spent +my fortune and came back to Australia to all intents and purposes a +pauper. Four years...! Here she was facing me at last--just as if +nothing had ever come between us. + +"Yes, it's me," I said ungrammatically. "Why?" + +She raised her hand to her throat with a queer little gesture. "I didn't +quite expect to see you ... yet," she said. + +"It's the unexpected that happens," I remarked. "I've come back at last, +though in slightly different circumstances." + +"I know, Jim. I've heard." + +"He told you," I suggested, and nodded towards the door she had just +closed. + +"How do you know that?" she asked quickly. + +"It is my business to know things," I told her. "I'm a professional +caretaker of secrets now." + +She looked at me blankly and I saw that he had not told her everything. +It behoved me to play the game warily until I was sure of my ground. + +"What are you doing here, Moira?" I asked her point-blank. + +"That's a question I could ask you," she countered. "But I am here, not +from any desire to meet you--I didn't know you were here--but because he +sent for me." + +"And why should he send for you?" I persisted. + +There was just the faintest flicker of a smile moving about her lips +now; she had turned a little and the light was playing on her face. + +"For just the simplest reason in the world. He wanted me." + +"Why should he want you?" I demanded. + +She looked at me a moment as if astonished that I should ask such a +question. But there was that in my eyes which told her that my ignorance +was anything but assumed. + +"You really mean to say you don't know?" she asked incredulously. + +"If I did know I wouldn't question you about it," I said shortly. "What +is the reason?" + +"Well, you see," she answered lightly, with just a slight uplift of her +eyebrows--an old theatrical trick that I used to admire in the days gone +by--"he happens to be my uncle." + +"That puts another complexion on matters," I said half to myself. But +her quick ear caught the drift of my remark and she was down on me like +the wolf on the fold. + +"You're in with him, are you?" she questioned, with that devouring flame +I knew so well flaring up in her golden-brown eyes. "You're in with +him ... in this?" + +In a way I wasn't. As a matter-of-fact I suspected from her last words +that she knew more about everything than I did, but I was perfectly sure +that she wouldn't believe me if I denied it, so I said instead, "Yes, I +am." + +"I might have known it," she said with a little shake of her head. I +didn't quite follow her logic, but I judged it best to let it pass. One +would think from the way she spoke that there was something +reprehensible in being mixed up in anything conducted by her venerable +relative. I wondered why. + +"Yes, you might have known it," I said, falling in with her own humor. +"I have a habit of doing things I shouldn't." + +I knew she understood my veiled allusion, for I saw her bite her lip and +again the lambent flame leaped up in her eyes. But it died as suddenly +as it had come, and in another instant the old tantalising smile was +playing about the corners of her mouth. In the smoky interminable depths +of the Solomon Island jungle I had crushed that smile out of my life, +for ever I had thought. I had deliberately erased it from my memory, and +at night beside the smudge fire, when my eyes closed for an instant and +that beautiful imperious face peeped at me from out of the mazes of +recollection, I would open my eyes and stared fixedly at the misshapen +headhunters who were my sole companions in that wilderness. "These," I +would say, "are the kindred of us both. Their women smile as she smiles, +and the men respond to it as I used to respond." And with that thought +in my head I would fall asleep and not dream. + +"Jim," she said with abrupt irrelevance, "you've changed. You usen't to +be like that before. You're different somehow ... cynical, I think." + +"That's more than likely," I agreed. "I'm learning to hit back. And now +if you'll excuse me," I ran on before she had time to answer, "I'll just +drop in with this parcel." + +Then without more ado I turned on my heel and knocked at Bryce's door. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE THIEF IN THE NIGHT. + + +"I've got those maps you wanted," I remarked as Bryce opened the door, +"and I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." + +"You haven't," he said with a smile. "As a matter-of-fact I've been +otherwise occupied. I've had a visitor." + +"A visitor?" I said guardedly, though what on earth there was to guard +against was more than I could have said just then. Some cross-grained +streak in my nature made me both cantankerous and suspicious, and while +the mood was on me I would have contradicted or queried the word of an +archangel. + +"Yes," Bryce replied. "The lady you met in the passage. I gather that +she knows you." + +"We knew each other years ago," I said shortly. In a flash the meaning +of the conversation I had overheard burst on me. I began to perceive +that her presence in the house was due in part at least to me. Well, if +he fancied he was going to patch up our old love affair he had +undertaken a bigger job than he thought. For two pins I would have told +him, had he uttered another word, that there was one matter in which I +would brook no man's interference, and that even the ties that bound him +to my father were not strong enough to allow him to settle what was +nobody's affair but mine. But, with even greater tact than I believed he +possessed, he switched the conversation on to quite another subject and +talked to me for the better part of half-an-hour about the maps I had +brought. + +He had the formation of the country and its industries at his fingers' +ends, and he spoke like a man who had gained his information at +first-hand. I listened attentively, for I guessed in some queer fashion +of my own that the maps and that foolish cryptogram, the shooting on the +beach and the piece of driftwood were all somehow connected. But either +I must have missed some very obvious point or else he picked his words +so carefully that he misled me. + +I used my eyes for all they were worth, which wasn't much. The +typewriter stood on the table in its old position, and the table itself +was littered with sheets of typed figures. "More timber measurements," I +said to myself. Somehow the sight of those sheets troubled me. They were +innocent-looking enough in all conscience, and I couldn't for the life +of me understand why they should have this peculiar effect on me. I felt +as if a cold gust of wind, the icy breath of Death himself, had passed +and touched me in the passing. I flatter myself that I have pretty +strong nerves--the Lord knows they've been tested often enough--but +there was something in the atmosphere of that room, something in the +sight of those littered sheets of paper, that sent a cold shiver through +me, that made me want to rush from the place into the golden sunshine +out of doors. It was a presentiment, but one that could not be +localised. It did not appear to be one that could be shared either, for +Bryce still talked on in his own quaint way, apparently unaffected by +the strange influence which so troubled me. + +At last he rose and proceeded to gather up the disordered papers on the +table. I rose too, and with a careless "So long," was making for the +door when he stopped me with a question. + +"I suppose," he asked, "that you haven't seen anything lately of our +inquisitive friends?" + +"The Roman sentry and the gentleman with the hardware and the smashed +wrist?" I answered his question with one of mine. + +He smiled at my description and the laughter-lines about his mouth +creased into a myriad wrinkles. "You have them exactly," he remarked. + +"No, I haven't seen them," I said. "They seem to have disappeared into +nothingness." + +Curiously enough the news, instead of pleasing, seemed to disappoint +him. "They evidently mean business," he said in a semi-undertone. It +seemed almost as if he was speaking his thoughts out aloud. + +He glanced up at me with brooding eyes and brows drawn close together. +"We'll hear from them presently," he murmured, "and then the end won't +be far away." + +"Cheer up," I said hastily, "They've got a long way to go yet, and I +don't think they'll find me altogether pleasant to deal with." + +"If you knew all about it," he said, and then he hesitated. For just the +fraction of a second he trembled on the point of divulging everything, +and then his old cautiousness re-asserted itself and the impulse died +away. + +"That'll be all," he said briskly. "Just keep your eyes and your ears +open, Jim, and, as you say, we'll beat them yet." + +But I rather fancied from his tone that he meant that last sentence the +other way about. + + * * * * * + +I came awake instantly. The noise that had awakened me still echoed in +my ears and, though I could not put a name to it, I could have sworn +that it came from the room where Bryce did his typing. It was a very +faint noise, not the kind to bring a heavy sleeper instantly awake. But +my nerves work like a hair-trigger, and the almost noiseless pad of a +cat across the room at night is sufficient to rouse me. What I had heard +had been so faint that a less matter-of-fact man might have imagined +that he had dreamt it. But I knew better. I don't dream. + +The obvious thing was to slip out of bed at once and investigate. I +didn't. I knew a trick worth two of that. I sat up and listened. It +might be a wandering tabby that had blundered into a piece of furniture; +perhaps the window had creaked; it might be any one of half a hundred +things. If there was an intruder in the house I felt certain that +presently I would hear something more. No man, no matter how careful he +be, can move with a complete absence of sound. + +Five minutes passed, ten, a quarter of an hour. Nothing happened. And +then, just as I was beginning to despair, I heard it again. It was a +little plainer this time. Somebody had scraped a chair across the floor +and it had creaked slightly. + +That was more than enough for me. I slipped out of bed, but I did not +hurry. Many a man with the prize almost within his grasp has lost it +simply because he has rushed at it with his eyes shut. I didn't dawdle, +but I said to myself, "The more haste the less speed, Jim," and +accordingly I took my time. Of course if I had fancied that there was +one chance in a hundred of the man getting away, I would have been on +the spot like a shot, but I guessed from what I had heard that the +visitor was in no hurry, and certainly hadn't the faintest suspicion +that anyone in the house was aware of his presence. I got my clothes on +somehow and took a grip of my long Colt by the barrel end. I didn't want +to shoot unless there was no other way out of it, and anyway a +revolver-shot kicks up such an infernal racket inside a house and brings +on the scene quite a number of people who'd be better at home and in +bed. + +I slunk down the passage like a shadow, walking as if I were treading on +eggs. Very softly I tried the door. To my disgust it was locked. Now the +only time Bryce ever locked it was when he was at work inside, so I knew +that my man was still within reach. As if to make assurance doubly sure +I caught, as I stepped back, the faint gleam of a pencil of light from +under the doorway. + +The position as I summed it up was this:--The intruder had entered +through the door and had quietly locked it behind him. That would have +been the first noise I had heard. Then he had hunted about for whatever +he wanted and, once it had been found, he had drawn the chair up to the +table and settled down to a prolonged study of the matter. That would +explain the two sounds. Now as my man had come in through the door he +was almost certain to go out the same way and, in the interests of peace +and quiet, the proper course to take was to sit down and wait until he +decided to come out. + +I can't say how long I waited there. It seemed like hours, but of course +at the outside it could not have been many minutes. I would dearly have +liked to smoke, but I rather fancied that the other man's nose would be +sure to scent me out. Also a scrape of a match in a still house at the +dead of night sounds like a bomb-explosion. So I just squatted down on +my heels and cursed my man under my breath. I was in deadly fear most of +the time that he would make a noise of some kind and bring the other +inhabitants down about my ears. He was my meat, and I meant to eat him +myself. + +At length the pencil of light went out. Somebody moved stealthily across +the room and the key turned softly in the lock. I balanced the gun in my +hand and got ready to swing. It was pitch-dark in the hall and I could +not see an inch in front of me, but I had my fingers right up against +the jamb of the door and I could feel it opening. The man was breathing +with a barely perceptible wheeze and, if I had not been listening for +something of the kind, I might have missed it altogether. But it was +quite loud enough for me to position the fellow, and the next instant I +flopped out of the darkness on to him. He gave a surprised little gasp, +a sort of sizzling like the air escaping out of a punctured tyre, and +went down on the mat underneath me. I had taken him so completely off +his guard that there was no need for me to use my gun. I got one hand on +his throat in the most approved style of the garrotte and just pressed. +He wriggled a little at first, but I kept up the same even pressure, and +presently he went limp. I knew then that he was harmless for the next +ten minutes, so I released my hold, slipped my useless Colt into my +pocket, and made to stand up. But at that precise moment the electric +light in the hall went on, and a silvery voice said, "Hands up, please!" + +In the astonishment of the moment I shot my hands heavenwards and turned +round to view the new arrival. It was just as I thought. Moira had +blundered into my little surprise party, and she was doing her level +best to annex all the honors for herself. She was standing with one hand +on the light switch and the other held Bryce's automatic. Her face was +very pale, and the hand that held the revolver wasn't quite as steady as +I could have wished. She blinked a little at me--her eyes seemed blinded +by the sudden radiance--and I don't think she recognised me for the +moment, so much do one's ordinary clothes make the man. + +It was clearly up to me to disillusion her and persuade her either to +put down the revolver or hold it in a way less calculated to alarm the +peaceful public. + +"You'd better put down that infernal thing, Moira," I said calmly, "or +you'll be doing someone damage. The mere sight of you makes me nervous, +Diana." + +There was a studied insult in the last word, but I think somehow she +must have missed it in the excitement of the moment, for she lowered her +gun and ran towards me. + +"Oh, it's you!" she cried surprisedly. + +"It's me," I said dourly, and I dropped my hands into a more convenient +position. "In fact it's so much me that I'd be obliged if you'd keep +quiet for a while and help me look after this gentleman on the floor. I +want to examine him, and I don't think I'll be able to do it in comfort +if you wake the rest of the family." + +"Who is he?" she asked, showing by the subdued note of her voice that +she had taken my warning to heart. + +"That's more than I can say," I answered. "I discovered him in the room +there, and when he came out I promptly sat on him." + +"But what did he want?" + +"If one can judge anything from his present attitude, he came to study +the pattern of the carpet, Moira." + +"Be serious, Jim, please." + +"I couldn't if I tried," I said, rising to my feet. "It's too much like +hard work. But let's look at the captive, Diana." + +This time the shot went home, and in a way I was glad. I had four years' +arrears to make up yet. It was not a very manly thing to do, I know--it +certainly wasn't at all gentlemanly--but it gave me a deuce of a lot of +satisfaction, and that's about all I can say in defence. She looked up +at me with both hurt and contempt in her eyes, but I was far too +engrossed in the business in hand to give her more than passing notice. +When I came to think it over in calmer moments I realised that, despite +all that had happened, the girl was just as much in love with me as ever +she had been. + +The fellow was young, at the most he could not have been more than +twenty-four or five, and I saw instantly that he was the man I had +called the Roman sentry--the chap who had been spying on the house the +day Bryce had driven me home from the Heads. The life wasn't crushed out +of him by any means; even as I examined him he stirred a little and his +eyes opened. They were nice black eyes, the sort that brim over with +humor, yet way at the back of them I caught a glimpse of something else. +It was a queer mixture of anger and determination, and I saw just +sufficient of it to warn me to take no unnecessary risks. Save for that +first spasmodic movement he lay perfectly still, those black eyes of his +laughing up at me and challenging. Somehow they filled me with a curious +sense of unrest, a feeling as if everything that made life safe and +secure was slipping away from me. I did not speak a word, however, but +gave him back look for look, striving with my eyes to beat down the +challenge I read in his. They said as plainly as so many words, "I'm the +better man, and I'll beat you yet. Try and see if I don't." + +"What are you doing here?" I demanded at length, seeing that one of us +must speak, and he seemed the less likely. + +"If I told you I was a somnambulist you wouldn't believe me, would you?" +he replied. + +"I wouldn't," I said tersely. + +"I'm not, anyway," he continued, with those infernally self-possessed +eyes daring me ... daring me what? + +"You've got to explain what you were doing in that room," I threatened. +"The sooner you tell me the better it'll be for you." + +"It's no use talking like that, my friend," he said. "You won't get a +word more out of me than I wish, and while I think of it you'd better +call in the police at once and have done with it." + +It was the first time that the idea of the police had occurred to me, +and, now I came to think of it, it wasn't too acceptable. Without +knowing much about it, I surmised that the less Bryce had to do with the +police the better he'd be pleased, that is if I could base anything on +the way he had behaved that morning on the beach. As it was Moira seemed +to have much the same idea as myself, or perhaps she spoke from superior +knowledge. + +"Don't call the police in, Jim," she said in a quick whisper. "You +mustn't do that. It'd be better to let him go." + +I shook my head. "I don't want to let him go," I said, "but if you don't +want to make an example of him, I don't see what else there is for it. +I'll have a word with him first, at any rate, and see what I can make +out of him." + +"Be careful, Jim," she whispered, all the strain and anger occasioned by +my ill-timed insult disappearing in her anxiety for my welfare. + +I ignored her admonition, more because I could think of no suitable +reply than for any other reason, and addressed myself to the captive. + +"Get up," I said. "You and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart +talk." + +He made no effort to rise, so I leaned over and hauled him up by the +collar. By the feel of him he was some forty pounds lighter than I, and +I made a mental note of that in case we had a scrimmage on the way. +Weight counts a good deal in a rough-and-tumble. I got a good neck-hold +on him, and then I turned to Moira. "You'd better get back to bed and +forget," I said. "I'll deal with this smart Alec here." + +I did not wait to see if she took my advice, but I prodded my captive +with my free hand. "Jog along, Eliza," I said. "Straight down the hall, +and don't try any monkey tricks." + +He went quietly enough; if I had had my wits about me I would have had +my suspicions aroused by that same fact. I was flushed with victory, +and, what was even more pleasant, I was acting to an impressionable +audience. I was sure that Moira could not fail to appreciate the +neatness with which I had conducted the whole affair, and, though I kept +telling myself that I did not care a hang for her, I hadn't the faintest +objection to showing off before her. On the contrary. That, in part at +least, was the cause of my undoing. + +The hall ended in a big French window that opened out on to the back +verandah. It was very seldom used, indeed I had never seen it opened, +but there it was with glass all the way to the floor. When I marched my +prisoner down the hall I had some vague idea of taking him out on to the +verandah and inducing him to tell me what he had come for. But the man +had other plans maturing, and when we were just about six or seven feet +away from the window he gave a little twist and a wriggle and slipped +out of my hands as if he had been an eel. Then, before I had quite +recovered sufficiently to make a grab at the empty air, he hurled +himself against the window. It was one of those foolhardy things that +succeed just because of the sheer, daring recklessness of the man who +carries them through. He swept through the glass with a splintering +crash that must have been audible for half-a-block away, and then, while +the falling pieces still tinkled on the floor, he placed his hand on the +verandah rail and vaulted to the ground. I drew my revolver at once--I +had been pulling it out of my pocket even as I ran down the hall--and +took a flying shot at him. But in the hurry of the moment I missed, and +I padded out on to the verandah through the splintered window just in +time to see him scaling the back fence with the practised ease of the +family tabby. + +I did not attempt to follow him. I knew the uselessness of such a +proceeding. Just for the fraction of a second his hurrying silhouette +had shown on the top of the fence, and then it had melted into the +surrounding shadows of the dawn with a silence and celerity which, more +than anything else, told me how difficult it would be to trace him. + +I turned on my heel, only to find that the lights were blazing up in +practically every room, and Moira, Bryce and the servants were gathered +in a huddled, indecisive group just inside the window. Most of them +looked startled. Bryce had been a little shaken, but his self-possession +was rapidly returning. Moira, indeed, was the only one who faced me with +anything like calmness in her face. + +"You'd better all get back to bed," I said, seeing that someone had to +take the initiative. "It's nothing very much, nothing to worry you at +any rate." + +"Yes, you'd better go back," Bryce said, seconding my remarks. "There's +nothing doing." + +The servants moved away one by one, leaving the three of us together. +For quite a minute Bryce eyed the revolver that I still held in my hand, +then his glance travelled to the shattered window, and, completing the +circle, came to rest on me again. + +"Well?" he queried, with intense interest in his voice. I knew what that +monosyllable meant. It was a request for a detailed account of the +events of that night. Seeing that there was nothing to be gained by +withholding anything, I plunged into the tale and related everything +just as it had happened. + +"So he got away from you?" he remarked when I had finished. + +"He did," I said emphatically. + +"That's about the best thing he could have done," Bryce ran on. "I don't +know what we could have done with him if we had kept him." + +"'He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day,'" I +reminded him. + +"That other day is a matter for the future," he answered. "We'd better +see what he took though. Come on." + +He turned on his heel and led the way to his study just as the first +rays of the rising sun crept up over the distant hills. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. + + +The room was much as we had left it the evening before. The typed papers +had disappeared, but a sheet which I recognised as the one I had picked +up from the kitchen floor the day of my arrival lay on the table in full +view. Beside it was the clean blotting pad that I had never yet seen +used. Bryce took no notice of the sheet of figures, but lifted the pad +up, and, drawing a magnifying glass from his pocket, ran his eyes over +the rough white surface. Moira and I watched him with unfeigned +interest. At last he looked up. + +"Just as I thought," he remarked. "Have a look yourself, Jim." He handed +both glass and pad to me. I studied the latter for some seconds before I +quite dropped to what he meant. Gradually I made out figures impressed +on the rough surface. Our midnight visitor had made a copy of that +single sheet, had made it hurriedly in pencil, and the impression had +gone through on to the receptive softness of the blotting paper. My +scrutiny over, I handed the materials to Moira. + +"You understand?" Bryce queried, with little laughter-wrinkles about his +eyes. + +"I do," I said admiringly. "I don't know what the man was after, but he +didn't get it. He got a fake instead." + +Bryce nodded. "He's up a gum-tree instead of under one," he said +enigmatically. + +I made no answer to that, chiefly because it struck me that it was the +sort of remark that meant a good deal more than appeared on the surface. +I tucked it away in my memory, quite confident that sooner or later the +march of events would make it clear to me. As a matter of fact, if I +hadn't taken so much notice of that simple sentence, this story would +never have been written, for the key to everything was contained in that +casual remark. + +"Nothing else has been disturbed," Bryce announced, and included the +whole room in one comprehensive gesture. "I'm going back to bed for a +couple of hours. You young people can do just what you like." + +He hustled us out of the room, shut the door carefully behind us, and +went off to his room. Moira made no attempt to follow his example, but +stood in the passage with her deep golden-brown eyes fixed on me. There +was a look in them that I could not quite fathom; it whirled me back +through five years of sorrow and stress, brought me back to the days +when----. No, I wasn't going to think about it at all. It didn't bring +me back to anything; it brought nothing back to me. Yet I could not help +remarking that her eyes held solicitude for me and something that was +more than that. + +"Aren't you going back to rest?" I asked, and was surprised to note that +there was both interest and defiance in my voice. + +"I want to talk to you," she said, answering my question by inference. +"I want to talk seriously to you." + +So it was coming at last. She intended putting Bryce's advice into +execution. Perhaps she thought it was merely a matter of telling me that +she was sorry for what had occurred, and then everything would begin +again just where it had left off. If she thought so she was radically +mistaken. My love had been rejected and I had been wounded in my pride. +Through four long years of repression the knowledge had rankled in my +mind till now the very sight of her standing there and beseeching me +with her eyes was more than I could bear. I would not have been human +had I not felt the old wound pricking me again, and I certainly would +not have been a Carstairs had the mere sight of her apparent contrition +moved me to forgive her on the spot. I was quite willing to be friendly, +I told myself, but by nothing short of a miracle could we regain the old +footing. The worst of it was that something moved me to take her in my +arms then and there and kiss away the tears that were very near her +eyes. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Jim," she said tentatively. + +"There's no need to say anything, Moira." I tried to speak as kindly as +possible, but somehow I think I failed. "I happened to overhear you and +your uncle yesterday, and I know just what you mean. But, Moira, I don't +see how things can ever be the same again. It isn't as if it were +something I could forget. It isn't. It goes right down to the +fundamentals. If our love wouldn't stand the strain I put on it, it +wasn't worth having. I hate to have to speak to you like this, but, when +all's said and done, it's just as well to be frank first as last." + +She nodded with tight-closed lips. I saw that she was trying her hardest +to keep control of herself, and for a moment it was touch and go with +me. I very seldom set my mind to anything that I don't carry through, +and in this instance I had a very clear and definite plan outlined in my +mind. So I just set my teeth and carried it off as if nothing really +mattered very much. + +"You heard us yesterday then?" she said at length. She spoke so slowly +that she almost drawled her words. + +I nodded. + +"That's what you were doing then when I came out of the room?" + +"Exactly," I said. I fancied it would only make matters worse if I +explained everything in detail. + +"I was wrong, Jim, and I apologise," she said. There was a little gleam +of flame in her eyes that made me hang on her words. "I was wrong," she +repeated. "I said yesterday that you had changed, but I don't think you +have. You're just the same old Jim, a bit of a savage and just as +primitive as ever." + +"Thank you, Moira," I said. "I didn't expect it from you, but now I know +what to look for." + +"It is war then?" she said, with a little sparkle in her eyes. + +"War it is," I answered; "as the Spaniards say, 'Guerra al cuchillo.'" + +"Please translate," she requested. "I do not speak Spanish." + +"War to the knife," I said briskly. + +She half turned, then spoke to me over her shoulder. "I had hoped that +we would be allies," she said softly, and was gone before I could ask +her why. + +As was only to be expected, things were very quiet during the next few +days. Bryce went about his own affairs more openly than hitherto. With +the passing of our midnight visitor all fear of attack seemed to have +disappeared. He did not say as much to me, but in many little ways he +showed that he was much easier in his mind. I found that I had next to +nothing to do. He did not go out of his way now to find something to +keep me occupied. As a matter of fact, I saw very little of him and +practically nothing at all of Moira. + +I spent most of my time thinking. I went over everything that had +happened from the moment I sat down on the beach right down to the visit +of that interesting and entertaining gentleman who had made his exit +from the house in so unorthodox a manner. There was logic running right +through the piece; every little incident seemed to dovetail into the +others, yet, because I did not have the key, I could not read the +riddle. Why did the man on the beach fire at Bryce? I could not say. +Then just for amusement's sake I got a piece of paper and a pencil and +dotted down the items that wanted explaining. They ran somehow like +this:-- + +1. Why was Bryce shot at? + +2. Why was he being watched? + +3. What was the meaning of those figures I had seen? + +4. Why was Bryce so anxious to avoid publicity? + +5. Why did everybody seem satisfied when the burglar got away? + +6. What was the burglar after, and why was he apparently satisfied even +when he got the wrong figures? + +7. What did the piece of driftwood have to do with it, and what +connection was there between the wood and the typed figures? + +And, lastly, what was it all about, anyhow? + +Some of the items taken singly were quite susceptible of explanation, +but I could not put forward any solution that covered them in toto. So +eventually I gave it up, deciding that it wasn't my affair, and the less +I worried myself about what didn't concern me, the better. + + * * * * * + +The tragedy, coming as it did like a bolt out of a clear sky, so upset +everything that I really cannot say whether it was a week or ten days +later that it happened. But I do remember, with that accuracy of detail +that a man sometimes retains even when he is doubtful of essentials, the +various events of that evening. + +Immediately after tea Bryce rose from the table with the expressed +intention of going to his study. I recall that he remarked to Moira as +he passed her that everything was going along swimmingly, and that if he +had no further word during the next couple of days he would consider +that it was quite safe to try his luck. I didn't understand what he +meant, though he seemed to be referring in a general way to the late +burglary, if burglary it could be called. Moira was quite aware of the +drift of his remarks, for she asked him wouldn't it be better to let the +week elapse before he did anything. + +"We've waited too long," he said. "We should have got to work long +before. Too much time has been wasted already." Then he turned to me and +said casually, "Drop in and see me later on, Jim. I'll be working till +about ten." + +I told him that I'd be along very shortly, and then I went hunting for a +book to read. I found one at length, and I got so interested in it that +I did not notice time passing. I was brought back to reality by a quick +step in the passage, and I turned my head to view the newcomer. It was +only Moira on her way to the study. She went by me with her head in the +air, as if I did not exist. I recall taking out my watch and noting that +it was just a quarter-past-nine, and high time I went in and saw Bryce. +However, as Moira had got in ahead of me, and her business was probably +of a private nature, I decided to wait until I heard her come out again. + +I turned back to my book, but had scarcely found my place when I caught +the tinkle of breaking glass on woodwork, and practically at the same +instant there was a sharp "pop," as if someone had drawn a cork from a +bottle of some gaseous liquid. On the heels of that had come the single +whip-like crack of a revolver. I swung to my feet in an instant, and the +book dropped unheeded to the floor. During the last few days I had got +out of the habit of carrying my revolver, but for all that I made +straight for the study, and without the slightest ceremony turned the +handle. The door was not locked; it opened at my touch. I doubt if it +was even latched. + +If my long years of training in the hard school of experience have +brought me nothing else, they at least taught me to keep my head in just +such an emergency as this present one. It was well for me that I had my +nerves under complete control, for the sight that faced me was one that +I could not have pictured in even my wildest flights of fancy. Bryce was +slumped forward in his chair, his big head sunk on his chest. All the +color had fled from his face, leaving it ashen pale. The kind eyes that +used to sparkle so were glazed now in death, and squinted up at me +through the tangled mat of his eyebrows. The whiteness of his immaculate +shirt-front was defiled for the first and last time by the big blood +stain that showed how his life had ebbed away. But it was Moira most of +all who caught and held my attention. She was standing just a little to +the left of Bryce, her deep eyes wide with horror and a smoking revolver +still held in her white clenched hand. She was staring at Bryce and the +blood-stain on his shirt as if what she saw was too monstrous for +belief. + +"Moira Drummond," I said, in a hard, cold, emotionless voice that I +hardly recognised as mine, "put down that thing instantly." + +She turned her head at my words and regarded me dazedly for just the +fraction of a second. Then in an instant the revolver dropped from her +nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor, she swayed like a +willow-wand in the wind, and would have fallen had I not sprung to catch +her. She went limp in my arms. I did not need a second glance to tell me +that Bryce was dead, and that no one in this world could do anything for +him now. So, recognising that my first duty was to the living, I turned +my attention to Moira. She had merely fainted, and one or two simple +remedies brought her round very quickly. She opened her golden-brown +eyes and looked up into mine. The unaccustomed horror of what she had +just gone through had not yet died out of them; they held a plaintive, +pleading look that somehow went straight to my heart. + +"I didn't do it," she quavered. + +"Who said you did?" I asked. + +"The way you looked and spoke to me, Jim----" + +I stopped her with a gesture. "That's all right," I said consolingly. "I +wouldn't have thought so for a moment. But tell me just what happened." + +"That's more than I can," she said. "I was standing by him, talking, and +suddenly I heard the window glass smash and something went 'pop.' And +the next I knew uncle gave a little cry and his head fell forward on his +chest. The blood was welling up out of his wound, and I saw that he was +killed. His revolver was on the table, so I seized it and fired at the +window. I don't know whether I hit whoever fired, but I hope I did," she +concluded, with the faintest touch of forgivable viciousness in her +voice. + +It was only when she drew my attention to it that I remembered having +heard the glass break. The window had a great big star in the centre of +it with a myriad little cracks radiating from it like the spokes of a +wheel. + +Moira looked first at the window, then at the still figure sitting in +the chair. Finally she turned to me. + +"Jim, what are we to do?" she asked helplessly. + +"Well," I answered, seeing now that everything fell upon me, "we'll have +to get hold of a doctor. It's just for form's sake, you understand. He +won't be able to do anything. Then we'll have to ring up the police. +It's a blessing we've got the 'phone on, as I wouldn't care to leave you +by yourself now even for a moment. It's a wonder that none of the +servants heard the noise." + +"They're all out, Jim." + +"That's lucky in one way," I said. "Now, Moira, I want you to understand +that the safety of us both depends on how far you back me up. We can't +touch your uncle until the police come; there'd be trouble if we did. +I'm going to ring up now, and in the meantime you'd better find some of +your uncle's cartridges." + +"Why, Jim?" + +"I'll tell you when I come back," I said. "Just do as I tell you. There +should be some in the drawer of that table. Be careful how you get them +out; you don't want to have to touch anything more than you can help. +I'll leave the door open so I can see you from the 'phone. You won't be +frightened?" + +She shook her head, but her white face told me as plainly as so many +words that the sooner I came back the better. Accordingly I wasted no +further time, but turned on the hall light and took up the +telephone-book. For a wonder I had no difficulty in getting connected +with either the doctor or the police, and, once I had made my meaning +plain, I hung up and returned to Moira. + +"The police'll be here in ten minutes at the outside," I said. "I've got +just that time to make you word-perfect. You've got the cartridges? +Thanks. I only want one. Now listen. Your story's thin, it's so thin +that there's many a detective wouldn't believe it; but I'm not going to +give them a chance. I'm going to rig up things so that they'll look +right. What happened is this:--You and I were out in the next room, +reading if you like, when we heard a shot. We rushed in and found your +uncle just as he is now. We've no idea who shot him, and neither you nor +I fired a shot. When we find your uncle's revolver in the drawer with +its seven chambers undischarged we're going to be just as much at sea as +anybody else." + +"But I did fire a shot," she objected. "How can you get away from that?" + +"Easy. First of all I take out the discharged cylinder. Then I clean out +the gun. I mustn't forget to clean it out, because if I do and people +examine it, they'll see that it's been discharged, and they'll begin to +suspect. We mustn't leave the least ground for suspicion. Now, there's +the gun ready loaded in all its chambers and as clean as the day it came +out of the shop. Back it goes into the drawer, and it stays there until +the police find it. You understand just what you've to do now?" + +"I think I do, Jim. But, oh, you've got to help me all you can!" + +"I will that," I said in a sudden burst of cordiality. "I want you to +feel that you can rely on me right through. And if there's any questions +asked just let me do the answering, and if you're asked anything, why +just say the same as I do. You can't say anything else because we were +together all the night." + +"But, Jim, I don't see why we should have to deceive people like this. +Why is it necessary?" + +"Have you ever heard of the thing called circumstantial evidence, Moira? +You must remember that I heard a shot, and ran into the room just in +time to see you standing over your uncle with a smoking revolver. I know +what happened, but the police mightn't look at the matter in the same +light. There's plenty of other ways of explaining that broken window." + +"I suppose you know what's best," she said with a tired little sigh. +"But it all does seem so horrible. I wish I hadn't to lie so." + +"There's worse things than lying," I hinted. "It's a case of choosing +the lesser of two evils, and really, Moira, I think in his own peculiar +way your uncle trusted me." + +She nodded as if she could not trust herself to speak. + +Then came the sound of heavy footsteps on the verandah, and the +door-bell rang violently. + +"That's the police, very likely," I said in a quick whisper. "Just keep +your head and leave the rest to me." + +She said no word, but the pressure of her hand on mine told me more than +hours of speech. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +I TELL A LIE. + + +The police had brought the divisional surgeon with them, and he made his +brief examination while the sergeant questioned Moira and myself. My +story was the simple one that I had outlined, and I must say that Moira +played up well to my lead. She was naturally upset at what she had gone +through, and the sergeant, I fancy, made allowance for this, and +attributed any trifling discrepancies between our two stories to this +fact. He was one of the politest officials it has ever been my lot to +deal with, and he carried out his duties in a way that made me his +debtor for life. I was not as shocked by the occurrence as I might have +been. I had seen far too much of the rough side of life and the sudden +side of death to have any other feeling than a rather natural sorrow at +losing a man who had been something more than a benefactor to me; but I +did not make the radical mistake of treating Bryce's death too lightly. +I rather flatter myself that I mixed my sorrow and my common sense in +just the right proportions. It was different with Moira; she was +genuinely distressed, and made no effort to conceal it. It was the first +time for many years that I had seen her so unaffected, and natural, and +I must say that the sight brought out all that was best in me. + +The sergeant took our names and then began a close personal questioning. +He enquired into my past life, asked me how long I had been with Bryce, +and then bluntly demanded to know in what capacity I was staying in the +house. + +"Mr. Bryce," I said, "was an old friend of my father's, and naturally +there was always a welcome here for me." + +I picked my words carefully, because I was in mortal dread that some +stray remark might put him on to that affair on the beach. I knew that +if he once got wind of that everything was up with us, and our +hastily-built castle of cards would come tumbling to the ground. While I +was thinking of this it struck me all of a heap that there was a chance +of something leaking out about the burglar of the other day. The only +thing I could see was to make a clean breast of it. + +"I don't know whether this has got anything to do with the burglary the +other night," I said casually. + +"What's that?" the sergeant demanded. + +I repeated my remark. "This is the first I've heard of it," the man +said. "Why wasn't it reported before? It's over a week ago, you say." + +"About that," I agreed, "but it was reported. Mr. Bryce went down +himself to tell you." And here I looked warningly at Moira. She gave no +sign that she had noticed my glance, but somehow I felt that she quite +understood what was required of her. + +"I don't deny he might have come down," the man ran on, "but all the +same no report has reached us." + +"That's mighty curious," I said with assumed thoughtfulness. "Now I come +to think of it, it struck me at the time that you people hadn't followed +the matter up. I meant to ask Mr. Bryce about it, but the matter went +clean out of my mind, and it was just this moment that I recollected it. +It does seem a bit of a puzzler." + +"If you tell me all that happened, Mr. Carstairs," the sergeant +suggested, "it might help us a bit. There's something very like a motive +in this." + +I gave him a rather sketchy account of the night of the burglar's visit, +but, without actually giving a false description of the burglar himself, +I so drew him that he would be difficult to recognise. I was swayed by +cautiousness more than anything else at the moment, but I fancy that +deep down in my mind was a primitive longing to settle with the man +without having recourse to the law. At any rate no policeman in the +country would have arrested him on the description I gave. + +"It's a pity he got away," said the sergeant when I'd finished. "It +looks as if he's the man. What was taken, Mr. Carstairs?" + +"According to Mr. Bryce there wasn't anything even touched." + +"Looks as if Mr. Bryce had a past," the man said in a half-whisper meant +for my ears alone. + +I regarded the suggestion with alarm. "I don't see how that could be," I +told him. "I've known him for a good many years, and my father knew him +before that. But of course I've been in the Islands for close on to four +years, and something that I am unaware of may have occurred in that +time." + +"Just so," he agreed. "We'll see what Miss Drummond has to say." + +"Had your uncle any enemies that you know of?" she was asked. + +She answered the question with admirable adroitness. "My uncle was the +kindest of men," she said. "I can conceive of no reason why he should +have any enemies." + +I suppose our very apparent frankness threw the man off his guard, for +I'm perfectly satisfied that he could have tripped us up more than once +had he had the faintest suspicion that we were not telling the exact +truth. But we strove, rather successfully as it now appears, to twist +the truth to suit ourselves without actually telling a downright lie, +and we did it in a way that seemed to satisfy him, astute though he was. +I told him but one lie that evening, though as a matter of fact it was +much nearer the truth than anything else I had said, so strangely do +things fall out. + +"Miss Drummond is Mr. Bryce's niece, isn't she?" he asked. + +"That's right," I said, and Moira nodded. + +"Now let me see," he ran on, ticking off the points on his fingers, "you +are an old friend of the family's. That's correct, isn't it?" + +"That's so," I agreed. + +"Anything more?" + +"I don't quite understand you," I said, with the faintest doubt at the +back of my mind. He spoke as if he knew or suspected something more than +I had told him. + +He looked at Moira and then at me, and I saw that he was smiling. It was +just the sort of smile that one would expect from that portion of the +world that loves a lover. + +"Oh!" I said with a relief that I made no attempt to hide, "so you've +guessed it." + +"Guessed what?" Moira queried quickly, her face paling to a perceptible +degree. + +I turned to her with the cheeriest smile I could muster at the moment. +"He's guessed that we're engaged, Moira," I said. And the note of +exultation in my voice was more real than I had intended. + +"It's not the time to be rejoicing over such things," I rattled on, +"but--well, I suppose we're all young only once and we've got to make +the best of it." + +The sergeant was a gem of his kind, and even the nearness of a tragedy +and the rigidness of the rules that governed his daily life had not +crushed out of him that little touch of Nature that makes the whole +world kin. Thanks to the easiness of my manner and his own ready +stumbling into the trap I had not set for him, he now looked upon me as +nothing more than a love-sick youth with no eyes for anyone or anything +save the girl who occupied his heart. If the man could only have seen +what was in my mind, if by any chance he had overheard our conversation +on the morning of the burglary, how quickly he would have changed his +good opinion of us both. But luckily he was no mind-reader, and my +little piece of bluff achieved more success than was its due. + +"You needn't worry about anything," he said with an almost paternal note +in his voice. "We police have certain duties to carry out, but we're +human after all, and anything I can do as a man and a brother I'll be +only too pleased to have you ask." + +"Thank you," I said, with gratitude that was less than half feigned. + +The divisional surgeon gave it as his opinion that death had been +practically instantaneous. The bullet had entered the wall of the chest +a little too close to the heart to be pleasant. The doctor did tell me +just what else had happened, but either he did not make himself clear or +I have forgotten it. + +Presently a couple of the police who had been put on the trail of the +fugitive returned and reported nothing doing. The garden just outside +the window was a good deal trampled about, and there were footmarks in +plenty on the soft soil, but, as the sergeant remarked, "Footmarks are +like finger prints--they're no use unless you know who made them." All +things considered, it looked as if our man had got clean away again. I +had a fancy that neither Moira nor I had seen the last of him. Standing +there in the very room that had witnessed the tragedy, with the body of +the murdered man hanging limply in the chair, the lifeless clay scarcely +yet cold, it came to me with something of the clearness of prophecy that +this was not the end but the beginning of the play. It was something +closely akin to second sight, and for the moment the spaciousness of the +vision that I saw but dimly thrilled me with its possibilities. I knew, +though how I knew I cannot say even at this distant date, that the calm, +silent policemen with their helmets in their hands, the earnest, +energetic divisional surgeon, and his confrère the sergeant, even the +dead man himself, were but the merest supers in the prelude to +adventure. Moira and I were the only ones who were real, the only actors +that were something more than mummers. Yet even I failed to see that +what had happened that night was something more than a queer insoluble +mystery. There was nothing in my experience to tell me that it was +vitally connected with the early history of Victoria, that it had its +being in the now far-off days before Australia became a nation. I think +if any supernatural whisper of the truth had reached me that I would not +have been surprised, but that is the most that I can say. + +I came back abruptly to reality to find a cold wind blowing in through +the crack in the window. The doctor and the two policemen between them +were lifting Bryce out of the chair he would never more occupy, and I, +with my profounder knowledge of death and its consequences, saw just +what they were going to do. + +"I think I'd better take Miss Drummond outside for the present," I +whispered to the sergeant. The man nodded, and, taking Moira by the arm, +I led her from the room. + +"It would be better if you could go to bed," I suggested. + +She shook her head wearily. "I can't, Jim. It's no good trying to +persuade me. I just couldn't." + +"I think I understand," I said softly. + +"I don't feel sorry a bit, Jim. I know it's a strange thing to say, but +it's the truth, and there it is. I couldn't summon a tear. But just +inside me there's a vacancy, a sense of loss. He's gone out of my life, +and I'll never meet anyone who'll quite take his place. I can't put what +I mean into so many words, but I think you can understand. You're quick +at understanding, Jim. I don't feel sorry a bit, and I don't want to +cry, somehow; but I'll miss him dreadfully. I'm hard in some ways, Jim. +I must be terribly devoid of affection." + +I made no answer to that. My thoughts were on one summer's evening +four--or was it five?--years ago, and in the light of what had happened +then I could scarcely contradict her now. + +"I'm sorry," I said abruptly, "that I had to tell that lie about our +being engaged. But I had to be as natural as I could, and the more +obvious an explanation I gave the better for us all." + +She looked at me for a moment with unutterable things in the depths of +her golden-brown eyes. + +"I'm sorry," she said slowly, "that you had to tell a lie." + +I took her remark as the natural corollary of mine, but some +sub-conscious sense in me insisted that its very ambiguity was designed. + +Almost at that moment I heard footsteps in the hall, and knew that the +servants had just come home. The big clock in the hall chimed ten. + +"There's the women," I said. "You'd better tell them, and see they don't +make a scene." + +Moira nodded and went down the hall to meet them. + +There is little more to relate of this phase of my story. Naturally +there was an inquest, and just as naturally was a verdict returned of +"death at the hands of a person or persons unknown," or words to that +effect. The situation, in fine, was that Bryce was dead and buried, and +the police admitted that they held no clue to the identity of the +murderer. Motive there was none as far as they could see, and the whole +affair looked like one of these senseless crimes that from time to time +startle the city folk from their easy-going equanimity. The matter was +not even a nine-days' wonder, for other things occupied the attention of +the press, and a stickful was the most it ever got in any paper. + +I stayed on in the house at Moira's request and attended to several +matters that were rather outside her province. The old man turned out +not to be as rich as we had thought, though he had money enough in +truth. The bulk of this went to Moira, with the curious proviso that she +could not invest it in any way without first submitting the proposal to +me and receiving my sanction. The will was of recent date, as a matter +of fact it had been drawn up within a few days of Moira's arrival. There +was a sum left to me, too, enough to make me independent for a good many +years to come. + +Moira's mother arrived the day after the tragedy, and showed no very +evident intention of returning home. She was very nice to me, but then +there was no reason why she should have been anything else. Any strain +that there had been, and was still for that matter, was between her +daughter and myself, and, like a wise mother, she forebore from +interfering in what did not immediately concern her. + +For my own sake, if for no other reason, I hurried along the winding-up +of Bryce's affairs. I saw, or fancied I saw, that the sooner I left the +house the better would Moira be pleased. For when all was said and done +there could be no denying that things were far from satisfactory. +Neither of us made any further reference to my bare-faced lying on that +ill-starred night, but the more I thought of it the more equivocal did +the present situation seem. I for one was doubly glad when at last we +finished with the lawyers, and things--blessed, indefinite word--seemed +like to settle down again. + +My time of departure was no further off than twenty-four hours away when +the incident occurred that led to a hurried readjustment of my plans and +that brought us, willy-nilly, to the Valley--for so I still persist in +calling it, as if there were not another valley in the world--and the +treasure that lay there and helped us to unravel the tangled threads of +Bryce's past life. + +I had my bag already packed, and had announced that I was going the next +evening, when Moira stayed me with a word. + +"I've been meaning to talk to you for a long time," she said, "but +somehow I could never seem to summon up enough courage. It's about Uncle +and ... well, you know as well as I do, that there was some mystery +about him." + +"Go on," I said. + +"Well, he told me once that if ever anything happened to him we would +find documents in his room that would help us to take up the work where +he left off. He repeated that the very night he died. Don't you see what +that means?" + +"It means that they are still there," I said soberly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +INTRODUCING MR. ALBERT CUMSHAW. + + +"That's the peculiar part of it, Jim. They should still be in the room, +because they couldn't possibly have been taken away. Yet I've hunted +high and low and I can't find them." + +"And, now you find you're in difficulties, you call me in," I hinted. + +"Jim, I wish you wouldn't talk that way. There's no call for us to be +continually bickering. If we can't be anything else, at least we can be +friends, can't we?" + +"I suppose it's worth trying. But what have the papers to do with me?" + +"They affect you as well as me, Jim. Uncle wished the two of us to carry +on his work." + +"How pleasant!" I murmured. "And suppose I refuse?" + +"Well," she said, with just the least gesture of helplessness, "I'll +have to do whatever I can myself. But it was Uncle's wish that we divide +the proceeds." + +"The proceeds of what?" + +"That's more than I can say, Jim. We've got to find the papers first." + +"That's so, Moira. Seeing it's you, I'll hunt for them; if it's worth +while I might even help you through, but you'll have to understand from +the very start that I won't finger a penny of what you call the +proceeds." + +"You usen't to be like that, Jim." + +"I've changed a lot, haven't I?" I grinned. + +For a moment she stared blankly at me, then she asked me, as if the +thought had just occurred to her, "There isn't any other girl, is +there?" + +"There never was any other girl," I said. "There was always only the +one, but she failed...." + +I saw that she had some intimate little revelation on the tip of her +tongue, so, for fear she might say too much--one never knows what a +woman will say if she fancies any words of hers will gain the day--I +said briskly, "Now, about those papers, Moira. Where did you look?" + +"Everywhere, Jim." + +"You couldn't have. There's one place at least where you haven't +looked." + +"And that?" she queried eagerly. + +"The place where they're hidden," I answered disconcertingly. + +"Oh," she said blankly; and then, "Have you any idea where that is?" + +I shook my head. "None at all, Moira. Still your uncle told you that +they were in his study, and as you say they couldn't have been taken +away, the only thing to do is to look in every likely place for a +start." + +"And if we find nothing?" + +"Then we'll look in the unlikely places. And as there's no time like the +present, I suggest we start now." + +Moira was quite agreeable to that, so we entered the room. Books and +everything lay just as we had left them the night of the tragedy; only +the broken window-pane had been taken out and a new one inserted. + +"I never thought of it before," I remarked, "but the sight of that new +pane just brought to my mind how narrow a squeak you had that night." + +"I don't follow you, Jim." + +"Well, if our friends the police hadn't been so willing to swallow the +obvious, they would have seen that my tale was all bunkum. When that +chap fired he starred the window, and when your shot went through it +finished the job and knocked a finger of glass right out. If the +sergeant had only gone over to the window and examined it carefully, he +would have seen enough to make him wonder how the deuce the same shot +could have hit the same bit of glass in two places. But he didn't go +over to examine it; I had filled his mind with an hypothesis, and he +couldn't see anything else but that. Now it's the same with this +business of looking for the papers. You seem to think your uncle would +put them just where anyone could lay hands on them. I don't. Your uncle +had a fair amount of foresight--he realised all along that it was likely +that he'd be cut off short--and the mere fact that he told you twice at +least that he had left you instructions shows that he had gone about +things carefully and methodically. Again, he had no means of knowing +just how he would be killed, so you can take it for granted that he +provided against such a contingency as this room being thoroughly +searched by the murderers. In other words, the papers are so placed that +only an intelligent person who knew your uncle's mind would guess where +the hiding place is. Now I'm having a wild shot at it, but it's logical +enough in all conscience. When you can't find a thing, try to take over +the mentality of the man who hid it." + +"I'm afraid you're getting too deep for me, Jim." + +"I'll put it another way, Moira. Something influenced your uncle in the +hiding-place he selected, and we've got to parallel his thoughts, if we +can, in order to find out the spot." + +"But that's impossible." + +"At first glance it seems like it. But just think the matter over. I've +got more than half an idea already. Whatever those papers are they're +certainly typewritten, and I'm sure they've something to do with that +bit of wood. Oh, I forgot. I've never told you about that. It happened +on the beach." + +"Uncle told me how he met you," Moira volunteered. + +"I'll bet he didn't say anything about the driftwood though." + +"No, he did not," Moira admitted. So then and there I told her the tale. +"You can understand from that," I concluded, "that whatever he was +typing had something to do with that piece of wood. Now when he had made +up his mind to secrete the papers two words would be prominent in his +thoughts." + +"I know," she said with a flash of intuition. + +"Tell me," I smiled. + +"'Sands' and 'wood,'" she said eagerly. + +"'Wood' is one of them," I answered, "but I rather prefer to say 'bury' +for the other. Now the only place he could bury anything about here in +such a way that it wouldn't be noticed is under the hearthstone; but, as +it's cement in this case, I think we can leave it out of the question. +He wouldn't put them under the floor. For one thing it'd take too long, +and the sweepers would be sure to notice if the carpet or the linoleum +had been disturbed. So that brings us back to 'wood' again." + +"How about the wall? A secret panel, or something of the kind?" + +"I don't think he'd select anything so obvious," I said with a shake of +my head. "It had to be a place that we'd find, but that everyone else +would miss. There's quite a lot of wooden articles here, Moira, so we'll +go over them very carefully." + +I surveyed the furniture ruefully. "Looks as if we'll have to chop a lot +of things to pieces," I remarked. + +"Silly!" said Moira Drummond disgustedly. "We're looking for something +hollow, so why not tap?" + +"Brilliant idea!" I said. + +As I sit writing at this table in that very same room, the scene comes +back to me with all the clearness of a well-developed photograph. In my +mind's eye I see Moira and myself on our knees tapping every inch of the +old mahogany and the newer imitation Chippendale, and I realise as I +have realised a dozen times since to what needless trouble we went, when +a little thought upon the lines that I have already mapped out would +have led us just as easily, and perhaps a good deal quicker, to the very +spot itself. But we were young then--though for that matter we are +still--and to young people all motion is progress. It is only when one +gets older and sees things in perspective that one realises.... But that +wasn't what I set out to write about. + +The long and short of it was that we tapped all the furniture most +carefully, and at the end of it found that our persistence was still +unrewarded. + +"There's something wrong somewhere," Moira said disappointedly. + +"It seems as if there's been a mistake in our judgment," I agreed. +"Still I fancy the table's the most likely place. You see he sat there +always." + +"Suppose you sit in his place then, Jim." + +"Excellent idea, Moira," I said, and at once proceeded to put it into +practice. + +"Now if I had just finished typing anything and was looking for a safe +place to hide it, where would I naturally go?" I said out aloud. Moira +dropped into a chair on the other side of the table and leaned forward, +her chin resting in her hand, and regarded me with intense interest. I +went on talking to myself. "I'm thinking of wood, and the nearest wood +to me is the table. Therefore I'd hide it somewhere about the table, not +in or on it, but just about it." + +Moira's eyes glowed--I remember that particularly--and we both must have +seized on the idea at one and the same instant. + +"Oh, why didn't we think of it before?" she cried, and then the two of +us were on our knees and groping under the table. It was a massive piece +of furniture in its way, with a large cross-piece running from side to +side underneath. And on this cross-piece, so tied with string that it +could not slip off, was a tiny packet of oil-skin. + +"The safest place in the house," I said, as I stood upright and held out +a helping hand to Moira. "No one would ever think of looking there. See +how nearly we missed it." + +"Jim, Jim, let's have a look!" she begged. + +My answer was to place the package in my pocket. "Not here," I said in +explanation. "You must remember that those murdering gentlemen aren't +accounted for yet, and it'd be a pity to let them get hold of the very +thing we've been keeping out of their clutches for so long." + +"I never thought of that," she said with a crestfallen air. "Of course +you're right. But where'll we go?" + +"Any of the inner rooms. The drawing-room, say. That hasn't got any +windows opening out on to the garden." + +Moira caught my arm. "Come on, Jim," she cried, "I'm dying to know what +is in it." + +"The more haste the less speed," I remarked soberly. "Likewise there's +many a slip between the cup and the lip." + +"Don't, Jim, don't be pessimistic just when everything's beginning to +turn out well." + +"Beginning," I repeated. "You're right there. We're just beginning now." + +But all the same she did not take her hand off my arm, and when hers +slipped through mine in quite the good old way, I could not find it in +my heart to tell her that she must do no such thing. + +The drawing-room was just as comfortable a place as a man could wish, +and I saw at a glance that there was no likelihood of our being +disturbed there. + +I held the packet in my hands for I don't know how many seconds, almost +afraid to open it. Inside was the secret that had lost Bryce his life, +the secret that had cost, though I did not know it at the time, almost a +dozen lives, and that would bring two at least of our associates +perilously close to the grave before our work was ended. Moira shared +some of my hesitation, for she made no effort to hurry me into undoing +the packet, but stood awaiting my pleasure. + +The string was tied so tightly that I could not unknot it. I drew my +knife and cut it, and the oil-skin unrolled of itself. The first thing I +came across was a letter from Bryce addressed to the two of us. It was +not contained in an envelope, but seemed to have been slipped in as an +after-thought. It ran:-- + + Dear Moira and Dear Jimmy,-- + + If you ever read this it will be because I am no more and have + failed to bring my plans to a successful conclusion. In that case I + look to the two of you to carry on from the point where I left off, + but because you are both young, and so have very little sense, I + don't intend to let either of you fall into an easy thing. There's + money at the back of this, enough to make you rich for life, but + you'll have to use the brains you both have got and work like the + very dickens to get it. I've put some of the necessary directions + in a cypher that a child could read, but apart from that you'll + have to use your heads. As you know some things that Moira doesn't, + Jimmy, and vice versa, you can see that it won't pay either of you + to quarrel. + + The man who really holds the key to the situation is a gentleman + named Abel Cumshaw. Abel, I understand, is in his second childhood, + and can never be brought to realise that it is any later than the + early eighties, but his son Albert is a most astonishing young + fellow, as you'll find when you meet him, if you have not already + done so before this falls into your hands. You see I have + sufficient confidence in your ability to believe that you will find + this package sooner or later. If it's too late when you do find it, + of course the joke'll be on the pair of you. + + Now, a word to you, Moira. Jimmy knows the hidden valley quite + well, so don't believe him if he says he doesn't. I spent nearly an + hour the other day telling him all about it, and even went the + length of showing him a map of the place. If he doesn't help you + out, it's because he's got a bad memory. + + As for yourself, Jimmy, remember that you can't get along without + Moira and don't try. Once you've found what you're looking for you + can each go your own way, but I rather fancy you won't want to + then. I think that's about all, unless to remind you that Mr. + Albert Cumshaw will be entitled to his fair share of the spoils. + +And on that note the letter ended, and underneath was his sprawling +signature, "H. Bryce," written as firmly as ever he had written it. + +"Well, what do you make of that?" I asked when I had finished reading +it. + +"I--I----" + +"I know," I cut in. "I feel that way too. Do you think he's put up a +joke on us?" + +"I just don't want to speak about it," Moira said tearfully. +"It's--it's--I wouldn't have expected it of him." + +"It's the unexpected that happens," I said with some idea that I was +consoling her. I could see that the tears were very near her eyes, and I +didn't want her to break down now and cry. A man is always at a great +disadvantage in dealing with a weeping woman; she can usually persuade +him to do almost anything for her while she's in that state. If I find +my wife crying--but it doesn't matter what I'd do, for I've no right to +be introducing purely speculative matter that has nothing at all to do +with the story. + +"It doesn't explain anything," Moira said at length. "It only makes +everything worse than ever." + +"I wouldn't say that," I said. I saw, or thought I saw, a glimmer of +light. It was so faint that I daren't as yet put it into words. "He must +have been in a rather frivolous mood when he wrote this," I continued. +"All the same, I think we're getting closer. We haven't looked at the +cypher yet, you know." + +"No more we have, Jim. Let's see what it's like." + +I handed it to her. At first sight I could have sworn that it was the +identical piece of paper that I had picked up from the kitchen floor +that momentous afternoon, but a second glance showed me that I was +mistaken. Many of the characters were the same, but the grouping was +altogether different. They ran as follows:-- + + 2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@3 @75 £994 1/4; £ 5@3 48-1/2-8;? 1/2-7; + 1/4-43 8; &8;3 --3-1/4-1/2-743 1/2-3: 3; "335 3-1/4-1/2-5.5@3; + "1/4-/3 £843/5 ;945@3/4 £4-1/4-2 1/4;95@34 &8;3 1/4-5 48?@5 + 1/4;?&3-1/2 59 5@3 043:897-1/2 9;3 3)53; £8;? "94 523&:3 "335.£8? + 5@3. + +"It doesn't seem to mean anything, Jim," she said in consternation. + +"I'll admit it's pretty hard to understand," I told her. "It looks like +a page out of a ready reckoner or a mathematician's nightmare. But it +does mean something or your uncle wouldn't have put it up to us. What it +is we've got to find out. Possibly the Mr. Cumshaw of the letter can +throw a little light on the subject." + +"Who is Mr. Cumshaw, Jim?" + +"I never heard of the man until I read this letter," I said. "He's a new +element in the plot, and, unless your uncle's pulling our legs, I think +he's going to be a very important factor." + +"He's got to share with us, too," she reminded me. + +"Share with you," I corrected. "I've told you a couple of times already +that I'll help you to it, but that I don't intend to take a penny of the +money. So, when you're figuring it out, remember it's halves, not +thirds, you're working on." + +"If it was anybody else but me you'd take it quickly enough," she said +accusingly. + +"Maybe I would and again maybe I wouldn't," I said with a smile. + +"Oh, Jim, I hate you!" she cried in a sudden blaze of temper. + +"I'm sorry," I said easily. "It doesn't take much to make you hate +seemingly." + +She turned and faced me with one of those swift changes of front that +made her so hard to deal with. The white-hot anger had gone as suddenly +as it had come, and in its place there was nothing but hopelessness. She +looked so weary and so miserable that for the moment I was tempted to +take her in my arms and tell her that the past did not matter any more +than did the future. But the memory of the words with which she had +driven me out of her life that summer's evening long ago lashed me like +a whip, and in an instant I had hardened my heart. + +"Why do you make it so hard for me, Jim?" she moaned. "If only you would +help me a little." + +"I'm helping you all I can," I said with a touch of cynicism in my +voice. "You can count on me until the adventure's finished." + +"You know I don't mean that," she said weakly. + +"There's nothing else you can mean," I answered stubbornly. + +For the space of a heart-beat we stood facing each other. I saw that she +was on the verge of a breakdown, and I knew that my own resolution was +failing. After all, what need was there for me to be so brutal? She had +suffered more than enough for the idle words spoken in haste all those +years ago. There is no knowing what might have happened had not Fate +intervened. But just as things had reached breaking-strain the door-bell +rang. The prosaic sound brought us back instantly to earth, and a +dramatic situation, tense with possibilities, became in a moment +common-place. + +"There's the door-bell," Moira said calmly. "I wonder who it can be." + +"Some visitor or other," I remarked. + +"What visitor could it be?" she asked. "I know of no one who'd have +business here." + +I knew of one at least, but I did not put my thoughts into words. +Instead I remarked, "Quite possibly it's some house-hunter." + +We heard the maid's steps go up the hall past us. There was a whispered +colloquy at the door, and then, quite distinctly, the maid's voice said, +"I'll see if he is in." + +"That must be me," I guessed. "I'm the only 'he' in the house." + +"But who knows you're here?" Moira objected. + +"That's right," I said. "Who does?" + +I opened the door of the room and looked out. The maid, who was coming +down the passage, caught sight of me. "There's a gentleman wishes to see +you, Mr. Carstairs," she announced. + +"Show him in here," I said. + +I turned back into the room. "You'd better stop here, Moira," I said as +she made a movement to go. "It can't be anything private. It's just as +likely that it's something that interests you too." + +She sat down again. + +The maid ushered the newcomer into the room. I ran my eye over him as I +advanced to meet him. He was small and dapper, and his air of +self-possession was almost perfect. His features were clean-cut, dark +eyes glowed in a face that had evidently been exposed to the weather for +many years, and his brow was surmounted by a mass of black curls. + +"Mr. Carstairs?" he asked. + +"That's me," I said truthfully but ungrammatically. + +"This will explain my business," he said, and handed me a piece of +pasteboard. I took it from him; it was one of Bryce's visiting cards, +and scribbled across the foot of it were these words:--"Introducing Mr. +Albert Cumshaw. H. Bryce." + +"I've been expecting you, Mr. Cumshaw," I said. "I've been expecting you +for some days now." + +As a matter of fact I hadn't, but it is always a good rule to allow the +other man to think you know everything. + +"Moira," I said, "this is the Mr. Cumshaw we've been waiting for. Mr. +Cumshaw, Miss Drummond." + +"Pleased to meet you," he said and looked as if he meant it. + +"Take a seat, Mr. Cumshaw," I said, and when he had accepted a chair, +"What can I do for you?" I enquired. + +He looked curiously from one to the other of us as if to seek an +inspiration. "I presume Mr. Bryce is not about," he said at length. + +"Well, hardly," I answered. "He's been dead this last couple of weeks." +It was longer than that in reality, but I mentioned the first period +that came into my head. Anyway, it didn't matter much how long it was +since he died; nothing could make him any the less dead now. + +"Oh," said Mr. Cumshaw quietly, as though my news was just what he had +been expecting all along. "It is most regrettable," he added. + +"Now what can I do for you?" I persisted. + +"Touching the little matter of the gold escort," he said and fixed me +with a glowing eye. + +"Yes, the gold escort, Mr. Cumshaw. What about it!" + +He did not answer that immediately, but eyed both Moira and me as if to +test our receptive capacities. I maintained an attitude of complete +indifference; Moira leaned forward a little with interest plainly marked +in every line of her face. + +"You were both in Mr. Bryce's confidence?" His quiet remark took the +form of a question. + +I nodded. + +"Go on," Moira urged. "You came to tell us about your father, Mr. Abel +Cumshaw." + +"That's right," said the young man with amazing alacrity. "You're all +right too. I wasn't sure at first, but now I see you're in the game with +me. From what I know of it we're all like pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. We +all fit in, and none of us is any use without the others. That being so, +I fancy that we had better all place our cards on the table. Now which +of you has got the cypher?" + +Moira looked at me for guidance. I was pleased to see that she was +learning that she couldn't do without me. I was pleased--no, I wasn't +pleased at all, for it didn't matter now what Moira thought of me. + +"What cypher is that?" I enquired innocently. + +"There is only one cypher, Mr. Carstairs," Mr. Cumshaw stated. He seemed +so sure about it that my curiosity was aroused. + +"Indeed?" I said politely. I knew better than to contradict him +outright, so I did it by implication. + +"There's only the one," the young man repeated. "You should know, +because Mr. Bryce left it to you." + +If I had had any doubts before as to the genuine character of my visitor +they all vanished at that last remark of his. It was one of those things +that a man could not have guessed, however clever he might be. He must +have had inside knowledge. Hitherto I had been indulging in that +pleasant pastime that is known in boxing circles as "sparring for wind," +but now I dropped the pose completely and answered him as +straightforwardly as was consistent with reasonable caution. + +"Yes, he did leave a cypher to me," I admitted. "But what do you know +about it?" + +"Only what Mr. Bryce wrote me. I'm sorry I can't show you the letter, +but Mr. Bryce had an invariable rule that all correspondence from him +must be burnt as soon as read." + +"I guess I've got to accept you at your face value, Mr. Cumshaw," I +said. "You'll pardon me for doubting you at first, but it pays to be +cautious in a game like this. Now I'd like to know just how we are going +to assist each other." + +"That's more than I can say," the young man smiled. "If I tell you the +story from start to finish, maybe you'll get a better idea of what we're +after." + +"Would it take long?" I said diffidently. "It's fairly late now." + +"If Mr. Cumshaw would stop to tea," Moira suggested, and looked to me +for approval of her proposition. Under the circumstances there was only +one thing for me to do, so I did it. + +"You'll greatly oblige us if you stop," I said. "That is if it won't be +causing any inconvenience?" I added questioningly. + +"None at all," he said cheerily. "Nothing of this sort ever +inconveniences me"--this latter with a glance at Moira. + +"So that's the game, is it, young man?" I said to myself. "Well, here's +luck to you." + +Aloud I said, "I am pleased to hear it." The funny part of it all was +that I really meant it. There was something open and honest about the +man himself, there was a healthful glow in his dark eyes, and he had a +way of looking at one that was the very essence of frankness itself. +Without knowing more of him than I had learnt in the few minutes we had +been conversing, I felt that he was as open as the day. In this case at +least my first impressions were more than justified by the course of +events. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Cumshaw stopped to tea and made himself very much at home, and +afterwards he told us the story of the gold escort. I have not set out +his tale as we heard it that evening. For one thing he only related what +he happened to know about the matter, and as a result there were many +little blanks he had to leave unfilled. But with the completion of our +enterprise many additional facts have come to light, and so it is that, +with Mr. Cumshaw's aid and at his suggestion, I give here a fuller and +more comprehensive version of the affair than he related to us that +evening. + + + + +PART II. + +_THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +NIGHTFALL. + + +Far away to the west the fiery globe of the setting sun dropped lazily +down to rest behind the quaint goblin peaks of the Grampians. Its last +lingering rays touched their summits with a crimson glow, flooded the +valleys with garish light, and even penetrated into the recesses of the +nearby woodlands until the whole place seemed to blaze as with the red +fire of Hell. It was not a peaceful sunset; it did not even hold the +promise of peace. It was alive and active, in the sense that light can +live, and one could but feel that its potency was malignant and assured. +There were clouds aplenty in the sky, light clouds looking as if they +had been trailed through red ink, but there was nothing about them to +suggest that a storm was brewing, or that even the slightest change in +the weather could be expected. Nevertheless the air contained a hint of +evil, so much so that an imaginative person would have peopled the hills +with gnomes and the woods with devils. Even had fairies existed in the +glades, one would have instinctively known them to be bad fairies. Yet +one could not say offhand whence or from whom the evil that was to be, +would originate; all earth and sky seemed somehow to be in the dread +conspiracy. + +The lurid hues of the sunset flared and faded into the drabber colors of +twilight, the shadows swept down in phalanxes from the hills, and the +still lifeless trees, stirring in the evening breeze, became black +mocking shapes of infamy. The yellow disc of a moon, climbing up over +the woods, took on the semblance of the leering face of a drunken man. + +The two men who presently came riding along through the tangled +fastnesses of what a couple of score years or more ago were the +untenanted and, to a great extent, the unexplored depths of a Victorian +forest, were very evidently unaffected by the grim fancies of the +evening. They were not laughing certainly, and when they spoke it was in +whispers, but the younger man hummed a music-hall tune under his breath. +There was something rakish, not to say reckless, in the way the elder +sat his mount. They went carefully, though, taking every possible +precaution against making needless noise. Once the horse of the elder +man stumbled and set a stone rolling down a declivity. Both men reined +in instantly and listened until the echoes died away in the distance. + +"You're as nervous as a rabbit, Jack," the younger man remarked when +presently they resumed their journey. "Every little sound seems to +startle you." + +"There's no sense in taking chances, man," said the one called Jack. + +"If it comes to that there's no chances to take." + +"Only that of being caught and hanged, Abel." + +"There's not much hope of that," Abel Cumshaw replied. "Gentry like +ourselves are rather out of fashion now since they've squashed the +Kellys. The country's quietened down a lot, and a 'ranger's supposed to +be a thing of the past. As it is, there's never been bushrangers in this +part of the State, and what hasn't been is the least likely to happen in +most people's estimation." + +"I'm with you there, Abel," Jack said. "But even that's no reason why we +shouldn't go carefully. You must remember that we don't know this part +of the State too well. That's the beauty of it, I suppose. Nobody knows +it very much." + +"It'll make pursuit difficult," the other suggested. "But what I can't +understand is why the banks should send so much gold across country when +there's the railway." + +"The railway, friend Cumshaw, isn't the safest route. There's just as +clever men working that as used to be working the stages. Moreover, this +cross-country route's much the quicker way of the two." + +"For which we may thank the Lord," said Abel Cumshaw, with cheerful +impiety. + +"Time enough to thank the Lord," the other retorted, "when we've +finished the job successfully. All the same, I wish we had a pack +horse." + +"If we had brought a pack-horse," said Cumshaw, "we'd have had half the +country-side wondering what the deuce was up. Like as not they'd think +there was a new gold-strike on." + +"And they wouldn't have been wrong in that," the other answered with +grim humor. "But let's get to the business of the evening, Abel. I've +got a good idea to put the pursuers off the scent, that is, if there's +any pursuit." + +"Out with it, then," said Cumshaw. + +The elder man reined in his horse, and, leaning over, whispered in his +companion's ear. As the tale proceeded a cheerful grin spread over +Cumshaw's face. + +"That'll do fine," he said gleefully. "You almost make me wish they do +pursue us just for the fun of seeing them fall in." + +"There's nothing to be gained by being foolhardy," the elder man warned +him. "Now we can't afford to waste time. Let us get to work at once." + +Without more ado he led the way down through the tangle of forest and +across the open glades until they reached the narrow track that wound +like a monstrous brown ribbon through the enormous gums. At the edge of +the road they both dismounted and tethered their horses to convenient +trees. Then, stepping very gingerly, and taking extreme care not to +leave any footprints on the dusty surface of the track, they groped +about on the roadside. Presently they both returned to the horses, each +of them carrying an armful of heavy stones which they loaded carefully +into the enormous saddle-bags that dangled one on each side of the +saddle-flaps. + +"That should about do it," Cumshaw remarked, when this was completed. + +"I hope so," the other answered curtly. He sprang to the saddle, loosed +the reins that had tethered the animal, and setting his spurs deep into +its flank galloped up the track for a matter of a hundred yards or so, +closely followed by his companion. Then they turned sharply off into the +bush, designedly traversing the soft impressionable ground. The +heavily-laden horses floundered in the soft soil, and gradually the pace +dropped away from a gallop to a canter, and finally to a walk. When +nearly two miles of this sort of country had been covered, the two men +reined in and dismounted. Next they unloaded the stones from the +saddle-bags and hid them carefully in the undergrowth. Cumshaw then +proceeded to cut his thick blanket into strips, each of about eighteen +inches square. There were eight of these strips in all--four he kept +himself and the others he handed to his companion. + +"It's a smart enough dodge, all right," the man remarked. "The only +possible flaw in it is that there might be some gentleman present who's +dealt with cattle-duffers in the past. If so, he'd be pretty sure to +scent our little game, and block it." + +"Let's hope for the best," said Mr. Cumshaw, cheerfully, looking up from +his work with a smile that even the darkness of the night could not +hide. He was systematically wrapping the squares of blankets round the +hoofs of his mount and securing them in such a way that they would +remain fast even during a wild gallop over rough country. The trick +itself was an old one; it had its origin many years previous in Texas +and Arizona when the raiding Indians made their horses walk over +blankets spread on the ground in order to hide the direction of their +retreat. The idea had been adopted and developed by the Australian +cattle-duffers to meet the exigencies of the country they worked in. The +trick therefore was by no means a new one, and there was just a chance, +as the man Jack remarked, that someone might drop to it. But the false +hoof-prints were an unprecedented addition that would probably keep the +pursuers long enough on the wrong scent to enable the precious pair to +"escape" and "cache" their plunder. + +It was characteristic of the two men that once they had taken all +precautions they quietly dismissed the matter from their minds and rode +slowly back to the roadway with scarce a thought for the business in +hand. Abel Cumshaw would have whistled had he dared; as it was he hummed +softly to himself. The moon was now well up in the heavens, and its +fitful light creeping through the leafy roof above, made gibbering +ghosts of the swaying gums. Mr. Abel Cumshaw and his companion, Jack +Bradby, had been brought up in the Australian bush, their nerves were as +steady as a rock, and where others saw grim visions of fancy they saw +only waving bushes and stripped gums. Though the present adventure was +their first essay in ranging, both of them had lived by their wits, or +rather by others' want of wits, for more years than were good for them. +Singly or together they had run other people's sheep and cattle and made +a lucrative, if dishonest, living at the game, and during their visits +to the towns had made it a point of warped honor to pay their expenses +with the ill-gotten gold of some duller fellow-creature. On top of it +all they had a carelessness of life and a free hand with their +easily-earned wealth that found them friends wherever they went. + +Bradby pulled up suddenly and held up his hand in warning to his +companion. Some faint noise had caught his ear, and, excellent bushman +that he was, he would not rest content until he had located and defined +it. Silently as a shadow he slipped from his saddle and dropped +recumbent on the ground. With one ear to the earth beneath he listened. +He remained in this posture for perhaps a minute and a half, then he +rose abruptly and turned to Mr. Cumshaw. + +"Horses," he said laconically. + +"Must be them," Mr. Cumshaw replied with almost equal brevity. + +Deftly, and without haste of any sort, each man knotted a red and white +spotted handkerchief across the lower half of his face, leaving only the +eyes and forehead visible. Then each tilted his hat so that the shadow +thrown by the brim shrouded the uncovered portion of the face. Mr. +Cumshaw, with the amazing simplicity of a conjurer, produced a pair of +ugly-looking revolvers from apparent nothingness, while his companion +slipped his holsters round so that his weapons were within easy and +immediate reach. He did not, however, remount his horse, but threw the +reins to Mr. Cumshaw, who draped them over his arm in such a way that +they did not hamper his movements in the least. + + * * * * * + +The little group of horsemen, four, or perhaps five in all, clattered +down the track as unsuspiciously as a man could wish. They were chatting +quite easily, even joyously, of the thousand and one little matters that +supplied their daily lives with interest, and nothing must have been +further from their thoughts than what actually occurred. The bank that +had sent them had departed from all precedent in parcelling out the gold +amongst the messengers. It was certainly against the rather strict +regulations of the bank, but the man who had instructed them had that +contempt for rules and regulations which is the mark of a man destined +to rise in the world. + +"The expense of sending you," he had said, "is certainly no greater than +that of the recognised method of forwarding by coach. The security of my +method is even greater as you are not at all open to suspicion." + +As a matter of fact, all would have gone well had not one of the chosen +messengers been a little too fond of his nightly drink, and more or less +inclined to talk when in his cups. True, on this particular evening he +had exercised a kind of maudlin caution, but the tactics of Mr. Jack +Bradby were of the sort to extract valuable information in the least +noticeable way possible, and as a consequence the man, while keeping a +strict guard of his tongue, at the same time let fall enough information +to satisfy the curiosity of the 'ranger. + +The first intimation the little cavalcade had of the presence of the +knights of the road was when a shadow moved out from behind a huge gum +and a clear resounding voice invited them to halt or take the +consequences. With one accord the riders pulled up, one man swore +violently, and the hand of another dropped round to his belt in a +hesitant manner. But Mr. Jack Bradby had eyes like an eagle, for he +cried sharply, "Put your hands up instantly!" + +All the men shot their hands skywards with a precision that could not +have been bettered by weeks of training. + +"You look ever so much better like that," said Mr. Jack Bradby +pleasantly. "Just keep still. I'd hate to make corpses of any of +you--you all look so much better alive." + +The humor of this was apparently lost on the captured ones, for they +received it in silence, much to Mr. Bradby's disgust. + +"Laugh when I crack a joke!" he roared. "Laugh, all of you, damn you!" + +Somebody giggled in a half-hearted manner. + +"That's no sort of a laugh," snorted Mr. Bradby. "When I say laugh, I +mean laugh. I don't want you to bubble like that jackass did." He +indicated the giggler with one of his ugly-looking revolvers. "Now laugh +altogether as if you meant it. One, two, three; off you go!" + +They all roared at that, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in their +voices. Mr. Bradby, however, passed that over and proceeded to the +business of the evening. + +"Now please keep your hands in the same position," Mr. Bradby continued. +"You've got quite a lot of valuables in those saddle-bags of yours, and +I'm going to annex them. And don't any of you move a hand or foot or +you'll be shot before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' There's men in plenty +in among those trees, so don't play any hanky-panky tricks if you value +your lives." + +The scared horsemen with one accord glanced toward the trees that +fringed the road. Mr. Bradby had stage-managed the affair with such +consummate skill that they could only see the dim forms of several +horses. The shadows were cast so that it was impossible to say how many +there were; as far as the captives were concerned a regiment of cavalry +might have been massed behind the trees for all they could say to the +contrary. They had a feeling that unseen eyes watched them and invisible +firearms covered their every movement. A solitary ray of moonlight, +glinting for an instant on one of Cumshaw's revolvers lent color to this +suggestion, so like wise men they surrendered to the inevitable and +allowed the explosive Mr. Bradby to relieve them first of all of their +weapons, and, when he had "drawn their teeth," as he succinctly +expressed it, to rifle their saddle-bags for the little packages of gold +that it was their mission to guard with their lives. Life at all times +is dearer than gold, and the men realised that they were in a trap from +which there was only one way of escape. They submitted meekly to their +fate, saw the saddle-bags rifled without a word of protest, and, +deceived by the shadows, watched what they took to be half a dozen men +at least loading up with the gold. It speaks well for the dominant +personality of Mr. Bradby that no one seemed to have suspected that only +two men were concerned in the hold-up, despite the fact that they really +only saw one man and the shadowy outline of another. + +"Turn round, all of you!" Mr. Bradby commanded when the transfer had +been completed. "Turn round and keep your hands in the air!" + +Obediently, albeit clumsily, since they could not use their hands, the +horsemen wheeled their mounts around, and Mr. Bradby surveyed the scene +with satisfaction. + +"You all look nice from the rear," he remarked. "Some of you've got real +fine backs. Just you keep like that now and see what the fairies'll send +you." + +So silently that he might have been a disembodied spirit he turned on +his heel, seized the reins Mr. Cumshaw threw him and vaulted into the +saddle. As softly as two shadows the horses melted into the night, their +muffled hoofs making no sound on the hard earth. + +Ten minutes later one of the horsemen, grown tired of the unearthly +inaction and suspecting something of what had happened, slewed his head +round very cautiously. In a flash he realised the position and imparted +his discovery to his companions. + +"We can't follow them," the leader said. "We're unarmed. Furthermore +we've got no idea which way they went. The only thing we can do is to +get back to the nearest police station and report." + +The man who had first discovered the absence of the bushrangers had been +employing his time in examining the ground for traces of the gang, and +very shortly he came across the tracks that the precious pair had made +earlier in the evening. An exclamation from him drew the others to the +spot. By the flickering light of a match they inspected the hoof-marks, +and then the leader of the party gave vent to a snort of disgust. + +"There's only two of them," he said. "What fools we've been!" + +"They completely took us in," remarked another member of the party. + +"That's so," agreed a third, "but we can't make people understand. If we +tell them how two men stuck us up, we're going to look a lot of goats. I +For one think we'd better keep the number to ourselves, or, better +still, we might say that there was a big party of them." + +One or two demurred at this, but the bulk of the party knew well the +ridicule that the truth would attach to them, and the result was that +between them a story carrying the marks of probability was invented, +and, thus armed against the laughter of the State, the party set out for +the nearest town. + +In the meanwhile Bradby and Cumshaw had doubled back on their tracks and +were heading for the Grampians. Though neither of them had explored the +mountains before, they were quite satisfied from what they knew of the +general formation of the country that there were gullies, even valleys, +where an army might lie hidden. So confident were the two adventurers +that there was no danger of pursuit that they did not press forward at +anything like a reasonable speed. They took things easy. Somewhere about +two o'clock in the morning they halted and removed the blanket-pads from +their horses' hoofs. Mr. Cumshaw was just going to throw them into the +bushes when Mr. Bradby stopped him. + +"Don't do that," he said, "we'd better destroy them outright." + +"How?" queried Abel. + +"Burn 'em, I should say," Mr. Bradby answered. "You make a good job of +it, and you don't leave anything behind. If you throw them away +someone's sure to find them just when it's most awkward for you. No, +Abel, burn them and hurry up about it." + +So it came about that presently a tiny spot of light glowed like a red +warning beacon from the lower slopes of the range. A lonely prospector, +a few miles to the east, saw the spark and wondered at it. He knew that +no one lived in that part of the country. The more he thought of it the +more it puzzled him, though with the morning there came an unexpected +solution. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE PURSUIT. + + +A body of mounted troopers left Ararat an hour or so before daylight the +next morning, and by seven o'clock had reached the scene of the robbery. +They had with them a capable black tracker who had figured in recent +events in the Wombat Ranges. He was a silent individual who answered to +the name of "Jacky," a name that seems to be the heritage of all blacks +who serve in the police force. He quickly picked up the false scent, and +the party turned east. It wasn't until the horses stumbled over the heap +of stones that some brilliant intellect dropped to the trick that had +been played on them. Then, with the better part of an hour to the bad, +the party returned to the starting-point of the trail. + +"Seems to me," the sergeant in charge remarked to his subordinate, "that +they've laid this trail with a good reason. Now if a man wanted to put +you on the wrong track, what would you think he'd naturally do?" + +"Send us in the opposite direction," said the other promptly. + +"Quite so," said the sergeant. "Now the false trail leads east, so it's +only reasonable to suppose that they've gone west." + +"That's so," the other agreed. "Get-up, you brute." The latter remark +was addressed to the horse, which showed an inclination to drop into a +walk. + +"Here you, Jacky!" the sergeant called, and when the black came to him +he said, "Those white men have gone this way," pointing westward. "Look +out for their tracks, though I don't fancy we'll see any for some time." + +The black grunted non-committally. He had much the same idea himself, +though he could not understand how the white man had guessed. Still he +knew enough of the white men to realise that they were very, very +clever, and sometimes found out things that even the black trackers did +not understand. The black went back to his work in silence. Presently he +grunted again. His quick eyes had noticed a grey woollen thread stamped +into the earth. He lifted it gingerly up in his hand and held it out to +the police. The sergeant took it, examined it carefully, and then, +without any comment, handed it round to the others. There was no need to +ask what it meant. All knew without being told that someone had lately +passed that way, and who could that someone be unless one of the +rangers? + +The black went back again to the trail, bending down close to the ground +for all the world like a little dog following the scent of the chase. He +turned sharply off into the bushes and the troop went after him. Here +and there--wherever the earth had chanced to be a little softer than +usual--one could see round depressions somewhat about the size of a +saucer, and one patch of damp soil gave a remarkably clear imprint of +the fibres of some material. + +"Clever chaps, by George!" the sergeant remarked. "They've got brains +among them." + +"How's that?" queried one of the police. + +"They've tried the old duffers' dodge of blanketing the horses' hoofs. +Sort of thing that works, too, unless a man happens to have his eyes +well open. Luckily I've stumbled up against this sort of thing before." + +The other man, who had his own ideas about the matter, nodded his head, +but otherwise made no comment. + +About ten o'clock the troopers debouched from the trees into a low-lying +stretch of land. One could not call it a gully; it was more of a +depression, a fault in the earth due to some local subsidence. On the +nearest ridge a prospector's hut was perched, from the chimney of which +a wisp of smoke ascended. When one of the mounted men dropped from the +saddle and opened the door he found no one in charge, though a dinner +was merrily simmering away on the fire. + +"Whoever he is he can't be far away," the sergeant commented. "He +wouldn't leave his dinner unless he was handy. Have a look for him, +boys. He might be able to tell us something." + +The men scattered in different directions down the depression, and +presently a shout from one of them announced that the prospector had +been found. He came toiling slowly up the slope, side by side with his +discoverer. He was a small wiry man, with a heavy iron-grey beard, and +his age, as well as one could guess, was something near to sixty. + +"You don't happen to have seen a body of men, horsemen, passing this way +late last night or early this morning?" the sergeant queried. + +"Nobody passed this way last night," the man answered in a colorless +voice. "Why?" + +"A gold escort was robbed yesterday evening," the sergeant said, "and +we've got information that the robbers came this way." + +The man turned slowly and studied the lower slopes of the distant range. +He saw, or seemed to see, something that interested him, and he stared +so long that the sergeant said impatiently, "Well, what about it?" + +"I was just wondering," said the little man in the same colorless voice. +"I was just wondering if that was them." + +"If who was?" the sergeant demanded. "Out with it, man, and don't keep +us waiting all day." + +"Last night," said the man distinctly, "there was a fire up on those +ranges. It wasn't a bush-fire. I know a bush-fire. It was just a tiny +little glow from here. I thought it was a fire showing through the open +door of a hut, until I remembered that nobody lived up there. It didn't +last long; it must have burnt out in ten minutes or so, so I knew that +it was started by some traveller. It wasn't a camp-fire and they weren't +cooking anything." + +"How do you know that?" the sergeant said quickly. + +"How do I know that?" the little man repeated slowly. "It's easy enough. +The fire was only alight ten minutes at the most, and you can't cook +anything or boil a billy in that time, I know." + +"The old chap's right," one of the troopers said in an undertone to his +superior. + +The sergeant nodded. He turned again to the old prospector. "You're sure +you didn't see anyone pass this way?" he queried. + +"No, I'm not sure," said the man. "I'm only saying that I didn't hear +anyone." + +"What do you mean by saying you're not sure that you didn't see anyone?" +the sergeant asked curiously. + +"When there's shadows in the trees," said the old man, "there's times +when you can't tell whether they're men or not. That's what I mean. I'm +only saying that I didn't hear anyone. I'd have heard horses." + +"The man's a hatter," the sergeant remarked as the troop galloped off +towards the ranges. "As mad as a March hare." + +The other grinned cheerfully. "Still there's a lot in what he said," he +answered. "Now that about the fire----" + +"I wonder why they lighted it," the sergeant cut-in. + +"Don't know," the other said. "What's the sense of worrying anyway? +We'll know soon enough. But don't you think we should have brought the +old chap along with us?" + +The sergeant shook his head. "What'd be the good?" he said. "He couldn't +do any more than he's done already." + +He swung round in his saddle and faced the troop. "Now, men," he said, +"we've got to put our best foot foremost. Those 'rangers are somewhere +ahead of us, making for the mountains. Keep your eyes skinned, for you +never know the minute we'll catch up to them. They can't have such a big +start of us, and they're heavily loaded at that." + +The troopers unslung their carbines and examined the loading, then, +satisfied that every preparation had been made, they set spurs to their +horses and cantered up the track that led to the ranges. + +It was Mr. Abel Cumshaw who first discovered the pursuers. Early in the +afternoon the two men commenced to ascend the mountains proper. Just +before they disappeared into the belt of timber that fringed the slopes +the younger man turned in his saddle and cast one last backward glance +at the valley they had left beneath them. Far away below them, in among +the misty shapes of the distant trees, he caught a glimpse of a +collection of dark little dots whose unfamiliar look puzzled him. He +called Mr. Bradby's attention to them, and that gentleman glanced at +them in an offhand way and pronounced them to be kangaroos. + +"Come on," he added in a different tone. "Hurry up with you there!" + +Mr. Cumshaw had no intention of moving until he was fully satisfied in +his own mind that the little black dots were really kangaroos. Something +seemed to whisper that they weren't. + +"They're not kangaroos," he said with conviction. He had caught the +glint of sunlight on metal, a brass button of a man's uniform, or +perhaps the polished barrel of a carbine. + +"Oh," said Mr. Bradby, "so you've tumbled." + +"They're police," Mr. Cumshaw stated. "That's what they are." + +"Didn't you know that, Abel? I guessed it as soon as I saw them. I'd +never confuse a trooper with a kangaroo. I only said that to--well, I +didn't want to scare you unnecessarily." + +"You needn't be afraid of that," said Mr. Cumshaw airily. "I'm in the +game for good or ill, and I'm taking all risks equally with you. It's as +much my funeral as yours." + +"It doesn't matter whose funeral it is," Jack Bradby said impatiently. +"We've got to get away and do it smart. You must remember that neither +of us knows anything at all about this country, and it's ten to one that +those infernal police have got a black tracker or some other imp of +Satan who'll be able to follow us, even if we left as little trace as so +many flies." + +"Where are we heading for anyway?" Abel Cumshaw enquired as he spurred +his horse alongside his companion's. + +"That's more than I can say," Bradby retorted. "If we'd had any gumption +we'd have explored the place before we took on this last job. But we +hadn't the time, and that's all there is to say about it. It's my +impression that this section of the State is as full of hiding-places as +ever the Blue Mountains or the Wombats were. If we only keep up this +spurt of ours we'll make a gully or a valley where we can hide for +months without a soul being a whit the wiser." + +"I hope so," said Cumshaw, in the manner of a man who has very grave +doubts. + +"Hold your breath for your work," Mr. Bradby advised. "You might need it +all yet." + +They had made good headway by this, and the path that they had picked +out took them every hour deeper into the unexplored heart of the +country. On every side of them stretched the unbroken fastnesses of the +primeval wilderness, sheer precipices dropping suddenly into infinite +space, jagged peaks towering dizzily into the misty vault of heaven, +quaintly situated valleys so masked by timber and brushwood that one +came across them only by accident. There is something in the naked face +of Nature, in the sheer magnificence of incredible heights and the +marvellous massiveness of big timber that somehow dwarfs man into +insignificance and makes him realise the puniness of his strength. There +was something in the scenes now opening up before the rangers that +subdued them and beat them into silence. There was beauty in the sight, +the soft eternal beauty of an unravished land, but over and above that +was the suggestion that the travellers were fighting not merely against +their kind but against the untrammelled forces of an all-powerful +wilderness. + +The time was early December, and the golden wattle in full bloom. From +end to end the ranges were a blaze of color, near at hand deep gold, +fading away in the distance into that hazy blue-grey peculiar to +Australian mountains. Hour by hour the men rode on in silence, at times +galloping down the slopes, at others crawling slowly and painfully up +hills that stretched apparently to heaven, hills that yet dropped +suddenly into space when one had almost given up all hope of ever +reaching the summit. + +They had lost all sight of the pursuers, though once Bradby caught a +glimpse of smoke far away to the east, smoke that he fancied came from +the mid-day fire of the troopers. + +They halted at sunset in the shadow of a clump of red gums and made the +first meal since morning. As a result of a hurried consultation they +decided to press on until midnight. But the horses were wearied with the +rough and constant travelling, and it took the better part of two hours +for them to cover a little under three miles. + +"They've got to have a rest and so have we," Bradby said finally. "The +pace is killing, and I'm quite satisfied that the police are taking it +fairly easy. We've got scared over nothing. They might not even be on +our track. At any rate I suggest we finish for the night and get what +sleep we can." + +Abel Cumshaw raised no objection to this--as a matter of fact he was +almost falling from his mount out of sheer saddle-weariness--so a halt +was called, the horses were unsaddled, the men unrolled their blankets +and settled down to slumber just as the silver ghost of the moon flooded +the place with its cool white light. + +It was broad daylight when they awoke, and the sun was already high up +in the heavens. + +"Somewhere about nine or ten o'clock," Cumshaw guessed. "We've slept in, +Jack." + +Bradby ruefully admitted that this was so, but excused it on the ground +that they would be better fitted for the day's work. + +"I'm hanged if I like this game," Cumshaw growled as they made a meagre +breakfast on almost the last of their rations. "The food's running +short, and it's only a matter of time until they wear us down. You know +what it means for us, Jack, if they catch us with the gold. Now I've got +an idea, and if we carry it out I see a chance of escaping scot-free. +The gold's weighing us down, so what we've got to do is to get rid of +it." + +"You're surely not going to throw it away after all we've gone through," +said Bradby, aghast at the proposal. + +"No, I'm not," Cumshaw told him. "What I suggest is that we hide it +somewhere handy, make a note of the spot, and then clear out of this +particular section for a time. We can easily keep afloat for a couple of +months, and when the hue and cry has died down, we can come back and dig +it up at our leisure. We'll gain nothing by sticking to it now and we'll +run a chance of losing everything." + +"Not a bad idea," Bradby agreed. "But the trouble's to find a suitable +spot." + +"We passed dozens of such places already, Jack. We're just as likely to +strike something as good or even better during the course of the day. +The whole country-side is honeycombed with hiding-places; it's like a +rabbit-warren." + +"There's nothing like being an optimist," Bradby said. "Have it your +way, Abel. Now the sooner you find some nice secure little spot the +better for us, I'm thinking. For one thing the food's running short, as +you just remarked, and for another I don't intend keeping up this +dodging game for ever. We can't last; they'll wear us down." + +"That's supposing they don't get tired and go home," said the cheerful +Mr. Cumshaw. + +"Not much chance of that," Mr. Bradby retorted. "I only wish they +would." + +During the morning Bradby's horse developed lameness, and, though the +two men slackened the pace in order to give it every chance, by mid-day +it could barely limp along. + +"This won't do," said Bradby in despair. "We're losing time we can ill +afford. All the same this old crock'll have to struggle on until +nightfall, and then we'll see whether we'll have to shoot it." + +"I don't like shooting a horse," Cumshaw remarked. "It's like murder." + +Bradby's only answer was a muttered oath. The trials of the Journey were +bringing out the worst side of the man, a side that Cumshaw had never +seen before. He eyed his companion thoughtfully. If the wilderness was +to get on Bradby's nerves at this early stage, Cumshaw could see that +there was likely to be very serious trouble before the end came. The air +in the highlands was laden with a freshness which, while it stung the +men to action, at the same time put a keen edge on their tempers. Both +of them were children of the warm, sun-kissed lowlands, and the +difference of even a few degrees of temperature had a remarkable effect +on them. With Abel Cumshaw it was such as to send a warm glow into his +cheeks; the cold bite of the air made his blood sparkle like new wine +and urged him on to fresh efforts. It affected Mr. Bradby in another and +a worse way. He became sullen, and there was a certain marked +vindictiveness in the way he spurred his lame horse on to exertions that +were plainly too much for it. Once or twice Abel was on the point of +remonstrating with him, but for the sake of peace he held his tongue and +waited, in the hope that the day would bring forth some measure of +relief. But nothing happened that morning, and the hope died within him. + +Late that day, when the pace had slowed down almost to a crawl, they +stumbled across the place by the simplest kind of accident. They had +been dropping down to lower levels the greater part of the day, and +somewhere about three o'clock in the afternoon--they were not quite sure +of the hour, since the sun was masked by the trees--they found +themselves in what looked like a narrow gully. Both sides of it were +lined with thick bushes of golden wattle that shut out all view on +either hand. There were shadows galore in this narrow gully, and the +place itself looked almost as dark as the entrance to the Pit. Cumshaw, +who had a classical education and had not been able to forget it, any +more than the fact that he had once been a gentleman, murmured under his +breath. + +"What's that?" Bradby asked sharply. + +Cumshaw repeated his quotation. "Facilis est descensus Averno," he said. + +"What does that mean?" Bradby enquired, in the tone of a man who +imagines he is being insulted in a language he does not understand. + +"It's easy to go to hell," Cumshaw translated. + +Bradby shot one sharp curious glance at him, but made no comment on what +he had said. They rode on in silence. + +Presently they came to a patch of ground that had been broken by the +wind or the rain, or perhaps both together. The shadows so fell that the +travellers did not realise the treacherous nature of the soil until they +were right in the middle of it. Cumshaw's horse floundered and would +have fallen on its knees had he not reined in sharply. This caused him +to cannon into his companion's mount. Bradby pulled back sharply, in +some way jarring his animal's sore leg as he did so. It reared up on its +haunches with the pain, and in the most approved manner bucked its rider +off. He shot up in the air, described a beautiful half-circle, and +sailed through the barrier of wattle like a human projectile. + +Cumshaw slipped off his horse with the quickness of thought. He had +enough presence of mind to tether both his own and Bradby's mount, and +then he cautiously parted the bushes. For the moment he could see +nothing but a great wall of golden blossoms, and then out of the depths +came Bradby's furious voice. He was cursing the horse and the slope and +everything and everyone within hearing in the simple and forceful +fashion of the Australian bushman. + +Cumshaw called to him and was answered with an oath. + +"Where are you?" he repeated. + +"Down here," said the voice, this time modifying its language. "Step +carefully or you'll come a cropper." + +Mr. Cumshaw pulled the bushes apart and found that he was standing on +the verge of a sheer descent. + +"Mind your eye," said the voice of the still invisible Mr. Bradby. "I've +found the very place we've been looking for." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE HIDDEN VALLEY. + + +Abel Cumshaw caught at the bushes to save himself from slipping and +turned a curious eye on the scene before him. Really there wasn't very +much for him to see. Bradby had fallen into a miniature valley so small +that it looked like the creation of a child. The place was heavily +timbered, and almost all definable features were masked beneath the +trees. Abel saw even in the first glance that here was just that ideal +hiding-place for which they had been searching. Softly and cautiously he +commenced to descend. The slope was slippery with green grass, and he +finished the last few yards with a run. He came down amongst a lot of +bracken and fern, and suffered no worse harm than the shock of a sudden +stoppage. Mr. Bradby, he saw, was sitting almost buried in a mass of +bracken, and looking much cheerier than his recent utterance would seem +to suggest. + +"Are you hurt?" Cumshaw asked him. He held out a helping hand. Mr. +Bradby struggled to his feet and smiled at his questioner. + +"Hurt? No," he said. "Only surprised. Why, Abel, here's the very place +we want. We could hide here for years, and they could be scouring the +country for us, and them not a penny the wiser. That tumble of mine was +just the luckiest thing imaginable. You talk about falling into hell! +Why, man, we've fallen into heaven, and if we don't make the best use we +can of the place we're the biggest duffers alive." + +"How are we to get the horses down here?" queried the practical Mr. +Cumshaw. + +Mr. Bradby eyed the slope down which he had come so precipitately, and +then pursed up his lips. + +"It don't look so easy from here," he said at length. "And from what I +can see this place is walled in all round." + +"Whether it is or not," said Cumshaw, "we've got to get those horses +down, and get them down at once." + +"But how?" + +"That's what we've got to find out," said Cumshaw. And with that he +commenced to climb up the slope again. It was hard work, much harder +than coming down, but in the end he managed it. When he reached the top +he turned, to find that Bradby was almost at his heels. He surveyed the +place with the eye of a trained bushman; then he said, "We can manage +it, Jack. It's a case of sliding them down, but once we get them started +they'll go right enough." + +"We'll give it a try," said Mr. Bradby. His usual good humor was fast +re-asserting itself now that they had reached a haven of comparative +safety, and he was ready to try any scheme that promised even the +smallest chance of success. + +Without wasting any further words on the matter the two men scrambled +through the bushes and made their way towards the horses. The lame +animal had quite recovered from its fright, and suffered its owner to +lead it up the slight rise to the wattles, though there it drew back as +if conscious of the drop beneath. But by dint of prodding and coaxing +Bradby forced it through the crackling brush, and then, with a wild +whinny of fear, it lost its footing and slid down the slope in an +avalanche of grass and twigs. Cumshaw's mount made the descent in fine +style, and the two men followed. + +"Now," said Bradby, when they stood once more on level ground, "the +further we get into this timber the better, I say. I don't suppose any +passer-by would be likely to notice that we've come down here, do you?" + +"All things considered," Mr. Cumshaw said slowly, "we've made little +mess. We've got to thank that grassy slope for that. If it had been dry +earth there'd have been tracks enough in all conscience. Yes, I think we +can reasonably say that we've no need to fear anything--unless +accidents." + +As near as they could judge the valley was about a mile across at its +widest, but it merged so gently into the further side of the ranges that +it was almost impossible to say exactly. The wood grew thicker as the +men advanced, until presently it was with difficulty that they could +make their way forward. + +"Getting pretty close," Bradby said at length. + +Cumshaw nodded. He was too busy thinking over certain little +peculiarities of the wood to take much notice of his companion's +remarks. His quick eye had seen little cuts in the trees, bits of bark +that had been chipped off here and there, and the sight set him +wondering. The cuts were curiously like the blazing of a trail. They +were regular, they were all about the same height on the tree-trunks, +and they looked as if they had been made with an axe, not the crude +stone weapon of an aborigine, but the sharp steel axe of a white man. +Yet the place seemed deserted, and in all the air was that sense of +utter desolation and absence of life that only those who have lived +close to Nature can feel and understand. + +"We're not the first here," Cumshaw said suddenly. + +Bradby turned on him in alarm. "What d'y' mean?" he asked indistinctly. + +"Some of the trees are blazed," Cumshaw pointed out. "The cuts are +clean, and that means they've been done with an axe. But they're all +weather-worn, so it must have been some time ago." + +"I don't like the look of it all the same," Bradby said despondently. +"It means that someone else has stumbled on this place--it doesn't +matter much whether it was yesterday or ten years ago--and what has been +done before will almost certainly be done again. If those troopers come +this way----" + +"What's the good of crossing the bridge before you come to it?" Cumshaw +interrupted. "We've been lucky so far, and who's to say our luck won't +hold out till the end?" + +"It's the end I'm looking at," Bradby said gloomily. "It might be the +sort of end neither of us'd fancy." + +Mr. Cumshaw made no immediate reply. He was peering very intently +through the boles of the trees as if he was not quite sure that what he +saw was really there. + +"What are you looking at?" Bradby demanded irritably. + +"If that's not a bit of a clearing and a hut on the edge of it, I'm a +lunatic," Abel Cumshaw said. + +"Hell!" ejaculated Bradby, and he in his turn peered through the trees. + +"There's no smoke coming from it," Cumshaw said comfortingly. "It looks +deserted. I daresay it's been like that for years." + +"I don't like this place," Bradby remarked with naive irrelevance. "It +fair gives me the creeps. There's spooks about here." + +"If you talk that way," said Cumshaw fiercely, "I'll put a bullet +through you. That sort of talk's only fit for children. You're not a +child. You ought to have more sense. There's things here doubtless that +you and I don't understand, but they're quite capable of a rational +explanation, so don't go digging up any stuff about ghosts until you +find you can't explain them any other way. There's the hut in front of +us, and either there's someone in it or there isn't. If there is, we've +got to use our wits; if there isn't, the game's ours." + +"Have it your own way," said Bradby. "I'm game enough when I know what +I'm tackling. I only mentioned I didn't like the feel of the place, and +I don't see that that gives you any call to say what you have." + +"We'll call it off until we've investigated," Cumshaw replied. "You stay +here with the horses, and I'll creep forward a bit and see if anyone's +home. All the same, I'm willing to bet that the place's deserted." + +"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," suggested Bradby. "However, you go off +as you say and I'll wait here for you." + +Abel Cumshaw threw the reins to his companion, slid his revolver +holsters round to the front within easy reach, should he need the +weapons they contained, and slipped through the trees with the silence +of a marauding tom-cat. Bradby watched him with some misgiving. No man +could say with certainty just what secret the dilapidated hut held, and +Bradby's state of mind was such that he took the gloomier view of the +situation. He would not have been very much surprised to see half a +dozen troopers issue from the hut. He would have taken it as the +inevitable ending of such an adventure. He failed to understand the +natural cheerfulness with which Cumshaw faced the situation. He was +bright and volatile enough himself when dealing with the ordinary +man--his courage was of that average quality that is always at its best +when exercised before an admiring or frightened audience--but the +abnormal brought home to him his own futility of purpose and his natural +helplessness. While realising all this he was not man enough to rise +above and overcome the limitations of his spirit. + +Cumshaw swung round the corner of the hut and out of sight. Then it was +that Bradby began to feel absolutely deserted, and the queer +oppressiveness of the place descended on him as one shuts down the lid +of a box. He was not the type of man who finds companionship in animals, +and the nearness of the horses in nowise mitigated his fear. For he was +afraid, unashamedly afraid, though of what he could no more have said +than he could fly. He knew without understanding how the knowledge came +to him that the valley was filled with the ghosts of dead things, dead +trees, dead leaves, and perhaps dead hopes. His nerve was going; the +intolerably close atmosphere of the wood brought little beads of +perspiration out on him, and when he brushed his forehead with a +trembling hand he was surprised to find it wet. + +The horses stirred uneasily, and the lame animal gave a low whinny. + +Then in the next instant the eternal silence of the valley was broken by +a human voice. The suddenness of it startled Bradby, and it wasn't until +he saw Cumshaw waving to him that he realised that the sound he had +heard was his companion's "Coo-ee." He loosed his hold on the reins, +allowing the two horses to wander where they might, and commenced to run +towards the hut. Even as he ran his faculties collected themselves, and +when he reached the corner of the hut he was almost his own man again. + +Cumshaw eyed him curiously as he pulled up. "Startled you a bit, didn't +I?" he said. + +"I thought something had happened to you when I heard you call," Bradby +answered, a trifle untruthfully. + +"Don't you worry about me," Cumshaw said with affected unconcern, though +something in the man's nervous tone troubled him in a way he could not +define. "I've found the old chap who made the marks on the trees," he +ran on. + +"Where?" Bradby demanded. But he looked towards the hut-door +apprehensively. + +"He's in there," Cumshaw said, following the other's glance, "but there +isn't anything to worry about. He's as dead as a door-nail." + +"Dead," Bradby repeated dazedly. + +Cumshaw nodded. "This many a day," he said in semi-explanation. "But +come in and see what there is to be seen." + +As if perfectly sure of his companion's acquiescence he turned and +walked into the hut. After a moment's hesitation Bradby followed. The +place smelt a trifle musty, and all the air was full of the subtle reek +of decay. It was rather dim in the hut, and at first Mr. Bradby could +see nothing but some indefinite shapes that might be anything at all. +Gradually his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, and in the +farthest corner he spied a rough bed of planks. + +"That's him," said Mr. Cumshaw irreverently, and stirred something with +his foot. + +Mr. Bradby looked a little closer this time. The something that Cumshaw +had stirred turned out to be the whitened skeleton of a man. The hideous +thing about it was that it was not stretched out on the plank bed; it +was propped up, as if the man had died while sitting. A rusted gun lay +in line with the thing's left thigh, and Bradby, following the muzzle +with a trained eye, saw that it was pointed at the man's head. + +"Suicide," said Cumshaw. "Look at his head. He's blown out what little +brains he had." + +He was right. The frontal bones of the skull were shattered and twisted +by the force of the charge; they gave the rest of the face a ghastly, +leering look which turned Bradby physically sick. The other man was +evidently troubled by no such qualms, for he loosened the gun from the +bony hand that had clung to it so desperately through all those years, +and tumbled the skeleton itself on to the plank bed. + +"I'm going outside," said Mr. Bradby suddenly, and disappeared through +the doorway with suspicious alacrity. + +Mr. Cumshaw laughed softly. "Weak stomach," he murmured. "Well, +someone's got to clear this old chap out, and, as it's certain to be me, +I might as well do it first as last." + +At that he gathered the white, clean-picked bones up in his arms, +carried his burden through the doorway, and deposited it carefully on +the grass outside the hut. His eye lighted on Mr. Bradby, who was +sitting on the ground some distance away, looking very pale, and having +all the appearance of a man who had reluctantly parted with his lunch. + +"What the deuce are you doing?" he asked in tones that betrayed a +certain amount of trepidation not unmixed with vague horror. + +"Evicting the late tenant," Mr. Cumshaw grinned with cheerful +inconsequence. + +"Why?" + +There was more than a question in the quick monosyllable. It contained +also a hint of protest. + +"Because we're going to camp inside the hut, and two's company and +three's more of a crowd than I like. This old chap can stop out here for +the night; I don't suppose he'll mind it much. If he's gone to the Abode +of the Blessed he'll be above worrying over such mundane matters, and if +he's anywhere else he'll be too much occupied to do anything but attend +to the burnt spots." + +"You shouldn't speak like that of the dead," Bradby said solemnly. "It's +not right." + +"If we stopped to consider whether a thing was right or wrong before we +did it," Cumshaw retorted, "you and I wouldn't be here this evening. If +you're wise, you'll leave all that talk till morning. The shadows are +closing in, and we'll have the night on us before we know where we are. +I'd suggest that we catch the horses while the light's still good. You +must remember they've got those saddle-bags on them still. Of course, +there's just enough food to make a meal for a pair of small-sized +tom-cats, but I fancy we'll manage on it till morning. Who knows what we +may find then? Perhaps a kangaroo, or at the worst a native-bear." + +Bradby rose reluctantly to his feet, and, with a nervous glance at the +remains of the unknown, followed his partner in crime. The horses had +not strayed far; they were busily cropping the grass, and seemed quite +content with their lot. The two men unloaded the saddle-bags and carried +the contents into the hut. Then they hobbled the horses and turned them +loose for the night. + +The shadows were gathering in by this, and already the trees were full +of misty shapes that had no relation to fact. The bulk of the hills shut +out the last rays of the sun, though the western sky was still faintly +tinged with crimson. Just as they entered the hut Cumshaw paused for a +moment and ran his eye over the scene. The place seemed peaceful enough, +but he had that queer sense of the bushman, a sense almost amounting to +an instinct, that told him that there was trouble ahead. He shook the +feeling off almost immediately and entered the hut. Bradby, despite his +dislike of the conglomeration of bones on the grass outside, lingered a +second or so longer. There was a light in the eastern sky, perhaps a +faint reflection of the glow of the dying day, that lit up the hump of +the nearest hill. It was practically bare of vegetation; only a solitary +tree stood a lone sentinel on its very summit, showing black against the +horizon. + +The thought that sprung into Bradby's mind at that was that here was a +landmark which there could be no possibility of mistaking. Already +certain plans were germinating in his brain, and he saw, or fancied he +saw, a way of turning this latest discovery to practical use. The +bleached bones in front of him, too, became a means to an end, and, with +the smile of a man who sees the way suddenly made clear, he too entered +the hut in his turn. + +Cumshaw was busily engaged in laying a fire in the centre of the hut, +taking care, however, that its glow would not show through the open +doorway. He looked up as Bradby entered and said, "I think we're safe in +starting a fire here. It can't be seen by anyone crossing the hills, +though there isn't much likelihood of that, and all the smoke we make +won't do us any harm. There's always a certain amount of mist in a place +like this, and a man a mile away wouldn't be able to tell the +difference." + +"Go ahead," said Mr. Bradby quietly. "You know what you are doing." + +The compliment in the last remark was desperately like an insult, but +Cumshaw did not seem to notice anything out of the way, for he bent down +to his work and whistled cheerfully while he coaxed the fire into a +blaze. Presently it was burning brightly, the billy was filled with +water from the water-bottle, and tea was in a fair way of being +prepared. "Great place, this," Cumshaw said presently. + +"Great place," Mr. Bradby assented. "A man can die here without anyone +being any the wiser." + +Mr. Cumshaw made no reply to that, but the corners of his mouth +tightened as if he suspected some hidden meaning beneath that smooth +remark. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT. + + +Just as the first rays of the rising sun slanted into the hut Mr. Bradby +stirred uneasily, threw out one arm, rolled over on his side, and in an +instant was wide-awake. He sat up abruptly and gazed around. Abel +Cumshaw was still sleeping peacefully, his head pillowed on the +saddle-bags that contained the plunder. Mr. Bradby smiled grimly at the +sight. Softly, without waking his companion, he rose from his rough bed +and glided to the open doorway. He stood there for a moment, drinking in +the fresh morning air. + +The sun was just coming up behind the solitary tree that had so +interested him the previous evening, and he noticed that from his +position in the dead-centre of the doorway the sun and the tree were +right in line. Again that curious, humorless smile flickered about the +corners of his mouth. He stood meditating for a minute or so, then, with +an assumption of carelessness that he did not feel, began pacing due +east. He had not taken half a dozen strides before he turned at right +angles to his previous course, and just as nonchalantly continued his +stroll northward. This time he covered about double the distance, then +stopped short and scratched a cross on the ground with the toe of his +boot. + +When he returned to the hut Abel Cumshaw was just getting up. + +"Hallo, Jack," he greeted Bradby. "Been stirring long?" + +"No," said Bradby shortly. Then, perhaps fancying his tone was a little +too abrupt, he continued, "I've just been for a bit of a tour round." + +"What do you think of the place?" Cumshaw asked casually. But he did not +look up at his mate; he kept his eyes studiously on the ground. + +"Just the sort of place we could make our headquarters," said Bradby, +with an enthusiasm that even the forced restraint of his tone could not +hide. + +"I don't think we'll have much need of headquarters once this is over +and done with," Cumshaw hinted. + +"Maybe not," Bradby replied. + +Cumshaw turned to the plank bed and lifted up the saddle-bags, one in +each hand. "Don't you think we should get rid of these?" he remarked. + +"I'd almost forgotten about them," Bradby answered with an assumed +indifference. "Yes, we'll 'tend to them as soon as we've had something +to eat." + +"While you're talking about something to eat," Cumshaw told him, putting +the bags down again, "I'd like to remind you that we're right on the +last of the tucker. There's just enough flour for the day." + +"I wouldn't worry about that," Bradby said. "There's sure to be plenty +of game about in a thickly-wooded country like this." + +Cumshaw nodded and dropped on his knees beside the embers of the +evening's fire. In a few moments he was busy coaxing them into a blaze. +Bradby stood behind him, watching the sweep of his shoulders with +calculating eyes. Once his hand strayed almost unconsciously towards his +revolver, then, with a gesture, half of horror, half of dismay, at the +significance of his action, he twisted on his heel and strode to the +door. He turned then, blocking the light with his figure, so that his +face was just a black expressionless mask. + +"It wouldn't be a bad idea," he suggested, "if I looked about for a +likely spot to bury that stuff." + +"Go ahead," said Cumshaw coolly, as if it were the most natural +suggestion in the world. + +Without further parley Bradby walked over to the spot he had marked +earlier in the morning. Bending down, he commenced to dig in the soft +soil with the point of his sheath-knife. The ground was easily enough +worked, and in less than half an hour he had excavated a hole of close +on to three feet in depth. He deepened it another six inches or so, and +then stood up with a smile of the utmost complacency on his face. + +"Nice spot you've chosen," said a voice at his elbow. He started at the +sound. He had not heard Cumshaw approach, and the idea that his mate +could come and go in such absolute silence filled him with dismay. +Already the gold fever had seized hold of him and made him suspicious of +every untoward move. Perhaps he fancied that some similar plan to his +own was evolving in Cumshaw's brain. + +"Yes, it is a nice spot," he answered. "It's easy enough to find once +you know where it is, but it isn't the kind of place a stranger would +blunder on." + +Cumshaw eyed the hole in the ground, and then looked towards the hut, as +if taking his bearings. Bradby noticed him and interposed hastily, "I've +got the measurement of the place. Have you a piece of paper I can write +it down on?" + +Cumshaw ran hastily through his pockets. "I haven't a bit," he declared. + +"Neither have I," said Bradby. "However, we'll have to keep it in our +heads. It's just ten feet from here to the hut-door." + +"It doesn't look it," Cumshaw said promptly. + +"It doesn't," his mate agreed. "But distance is deceptive here. How's +the meal going?" + +"Just about ready," Cumshaw told him. "I came to call you." + +The two men walked side by side to the hut. At the entrance Cumshaw +paused. "Nearer fourteen than ten," he said thoughtfully. + +"Very likely," said Bradby indifferently. "What about that meal? I'm as +hungry as a hunter." + +They were on short commons. Bradby ate heartily, remarking once that +there'd be food enough to go round to-morrow. Cumshaw laughed and said +he hoped so, but that to-morrow was a day that never came to some +people. Bradby absently ignored the challenge in Cumshaw's reply and +kept silence for the rest of the time. + +After breakfast the two of them took the saddle-bags down to the hole, +placed them inside, and then stamped the earth tightly down on top of +them. + +"Now that's done," said Bradby, with an air of relief, "the sooner we +get out of here the better." + +"How about old bones over there?" Cumshaw said, pointing to the +skeleton. + +"Better sling him into the bushes," Bradby suggested, all his +superstitious fears vanishing now that it was broad daylight. + +"Poor old sinner," said Cumshaw as he lifted up the remains in his +strong arms. "It might just as easily be one of us." + +"Don't talk like that!" Bradby cried. "It's tempting Providence." + +"You and I, Jack, have tempted that same all the days of our lives, and +we're likely to keep on until the end, so why growl about this +particular incident?" + +Bradby muttered something unintelligible, and Cumshaw, who was all for +haste now that their work was finished, did not ask him to repeat his +remark. + +Both horses had cropped their fill of grass, and the lame one seemed +slightly better. Its limp was not so pronounced and the swelling had +gone down. + +"It's out of the question getting them out the way we got them in," +Cumshaw said. "I wonder if there's any other way." + +"Nothing like having a try," Bradby advised. "That darned old hermit +must have come in some way, and I don't reckon it was the way we came +in. If I was you I'd try over there towards the west. The hills look low +enough." + +So they turned off at right angles to their path and presently were +edging their way through the wood again. As Bradby had surmised, the +ground rose steadily, though it was very rough. Big boulders lay about +the ground amongst the trees, which were thinning off. Soon they emerged +on to what was open country, and speedily found themselves right under a +ledge of rock which rose sheerly above their heads to a height of twenty +or thirty feet. + +"Blocked!" said Bradby savagely. + +"No," said Cumshaw in a tone that implied he refused to acknowledge +defeat. "There must be some way out, Jack, and I'm going to look until I +find it. Here, you take charge of the horses and I'll fossick out +something." + +He was gone for ten minutes, ten long minutes that Bradby occupied in +cursing the valley in particular and the rest of the world in general. +Then there came a cry from the height above him, and, looking up, he saw +Abel Cumshaw waving to him. Next instant the man disappeared and a few +seconds later swung down through the rocks. + +"It's no use," he said. "We can't take the horses out here. We'll just +have to leave them. A man can crawl up through a sort of funnel in the +wall of the rock, but you'd want a sling to get the horses along." + +"Can't we go back and try the way we came in?" + +Cumshaw shook his head decisively. "No," he said. "It won't do to risk +it. They just tumbled down yesterday when we brought them, but you must +remember that we had to cling on with our hands and feet when we went +back. We'll have to jettison the horses." + +"You said it was murder yesterday when I suggested shooting them," +Bradby reminded him. + +"We had a chance of saving them then," Cumshaw argued, "but now it's +either them or us. If we turn them loose, the police'll find them sooner +or later. If we shoot them, it's over and done with, and even if anyone +does wander in here by accident he's not going to come this way. If we +let them roam about the valley, they naturally go over to the other side +where the grass is, and the first fool that blundered in would see them +and begin to wonder how they got there. You never want to give the other +man food for thought, Jack. Once he starts thinking, it's only a matter +of time until he noses out everything." + +"Shoot the horses, Abel, and have done with it. I'm sick and tired of +talking. It's high time we did something." + +The horses were shot then and there as the easiest way out of it, and +when the echoes had died away the two men crawled cautiously up the +funnel-like opening in the rock. Footholds were precarious enough, but +by dint of hanging on by teeth and claw the partners at length forced +their way to the top and stood on the ledge that overhung the valley. +Across the smoky sea of timber they caught sight of the long line of +golden wattle through which they had broken their way the previous +evening. It occurred to both in almost the same instant that no man +would be very likely to blunder in by chance. The place was securely +hidden from view on three sides at least, and on the fourth, the side +where they now stood, the approach was so difficult and, as they learnt +later, dangerous that a man must have some very good reason for +attempting it. Cumshaw it was who first put his thoughts into words. + +"I can't help thinking," he said, "that the old chap must have come over +from this side. Most likely he was dodging someone." + +"I wouldn't be surprised at that," said the other. + +"I don't think he'd have found the other way in a month of Sundays. +However, let's get along. We'll have to make haste now we're without +horses, What's it to be? Riverina or Adelaide?" + +"I favor the Riverina," Cumshaw said. "I'm more familiar with the +country, and they've got nothing against me up there." + +"Riverina it is then," Bradby agreed with a laugh. "All places are the +same to me. I've no more liking for one than for another." + +So it came about that the valley faded away into the dim distance south +of them, and presently they were toiling across the barrier of mountains +that cuts Northern Victoria off from the rest of the State. + +The tragedy happened that evening. An hour or so before sunset they +decided to camp hard by a little creek they had just discovered. +Cumshaw, as usual, tended to the fire, and Bradby, after idling about +for a while, suggested that he had better go hunting, in the hope of +being able to obtain fresh meat for the meal. + +"All right," said Cumshaw. "Go ahead. But don't be any longer than you +can help." + +"I'll be back as soon as I can," Bradby answered, and slipped into the +shadows that were already gathering thick and fast. Abel Cumshaw worked +away, whistling softly to himself the while. He was so busy doing one +thing and another that it was not until darkness fell suddenly and +completely on the scene that he realised how quickly time had passed. +His first thought then was that Bradby was away much longer than he had +any right to be. It occurred to him that Bradby might have gone much +further than he intended and by some mischance had lost his way. He +decided to wait a while longer, and then, if Bradby did not appear in +the meantime, to go in search of him. But the time passed, the fire died +away to red hot coals, and the shadows fell thickly on everything; but +still Bradby did not come. At last Cumshaw rose swiftly to his feet in +the manner of a man who has decided on the course he must take and means +to stick to it unswervingly. With quick yet noiseless steps he stole +through the trees, occasionally swinging a sharp glance to the left or +right. But it was very dark in the woods, and it was impossible to tell +shape from shadow. A regiment might have been hiding behind the boles of +the trees without him being one whit the wiser. He had profound +objections against shouting his whereabouts to his mate--his woods' +instinct warned him never to reveal his presence unless there was no +other way out--but he saw speedily enough that there was no other course +left for him to take. + +He made a megaphone of his hands, and sent a long-drawn "Coo-ee" out to +wake the echoes. The sound reverberated from the hills and died rumbling +away in the hollows. For some seconds after that there was absolute +silence, and then somewhere ahead of him he caught a very faint noise as +of long grass rustling in the wind. But the air was absolutely devoid of +motion. The sound puzzled Cumshaw; the very stealthiness of it convinced +him that no animal had made it, yet he could not understand why Bradby +should exercise such unnecessary caution. + +Then in an instant he knew. The black wall ahead of him was split by a +pencil of flame, the silence of the forest crackled into sound, and the +whip-like crack of a revolver echoed and re-echoed. A bullet whistled +dangerously close to Cumshaw. He swore under his breath and tugged +furiously at his own revolver. Bending almost double he sprinted towards +the shelter of the nearest tree, while at the same instant the +stranger's weapon cracked again. Something stung his ear. He put up his +hand, and the warm blood spurted through his fingers. + +He compressed himself into the smallest possible space behind the tree +and then fired in the direction of the last shot. He allowed a short +interval to elapse and then fired again. The other man must have seen +the flashes, but he made no attempt to answer them. The moment the first +shot was fired Cumshaw realised, in a flash of intuition, that his +assailant was none other than Jack Bradby. The knowledge made him +extremely angry, for such black treachery was the last thing he had +expected to have to contend with. He saw now that it was the old case of +thieves falling out over the division of the spoils, and that Jack +Bradby was determined to stop at nothing, even murder, in order to gain +the whole of the plunder. He continued firing with a savage fury that +boded ill for his late mate. + +The thing itself happened suddenly. One moment he was peering out into +the darkness in an effort to locate his enemy; the next strong sinewy +hands were around his throat choking the life out of him. With that +clarity of vision that comes to a man perhaps once in a lifetime, he +saw, even in the all-pervading darkness, the shadowy face that was +pressed close to his own. The eyes that looked into his were dim pools +of evil light, faintly phosphorescent like those of a cat, and the face +that framed them was contorted into a malignant leer of triumph. That +much he saw before the darkness crushed him out of existence and all +things earthly faded from his vision. + +Bradby felt the man's body go limp in his arms, and he quickly thrust +into its holster the revolver with which he had dealt the final blow. +There was a steamy smell of blood on the thick, damp air, and when Mr. +Bradby drew away his right hand he found it warm and wet. + +"Christ!" he said in a tone of fear, "I've killed him!" That was +precisely what he had intended to do from the very first, but now his +plan had apparently fructified, he felt a vague horror at the result of +his handiwork. He opened Cumshaw's shirt and put his hand over the man's +heart. He could not detect even the faintest flutter. + +Then swiftly, with many glances about him as he moved, he carried the +body to the undergrowth and very gently laid it on the ground. But he +failed to notice that as he bent down a flat piece of wood had slipped +from the pocket of his shirt and had fallen soundlessly into the soft +green grass at the side of Abel Cumshaw's body. + +Five minutes later silence reigned. Only the heavy scent of the wattle +was mingled with another odor--the warm, sickly smell of freshly-shed +blood. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +EXPIATION. + + +Unaccountably enough Bradby went no further than the dying embers of the +fire. His first act was to build a big blaze, for he was already +becoming afraid. He could not define even to himself just what this fear +was; it was not so much horror at what he had done as a feeling that his +sins would yet find him out. Some strange attraction kept him close to +the scene of the tragedy, and all night he sat by the fire with his head +in his hands and his eyes staring at the ever-widening ring of white +ashes. Towards morning he fell into a doze, but scarcely had the first +rays of the sun penetrated through the leafy mantle of the trees than he +was wide-awake. There were dark rings under his eyes, and the eyes +themselves looked strangely tired and haggard. He glanced at his hands +with a faint idea that something had been wrong with them the night +before. He was disgusted to find that they were caked with dried blood, +and a feeling almost akin to nausea shook his frame. He made all the +haste he could to the creek and washed every speck of blood and dirt +off, so that when he had finished his hands were clean and spotless. + +He shot a parrot for breakfast and made a gruesome meal off the raw +flesh. There was nothing else to eat, for the flour had all been +finished the previous day. After the morning's meal he brightened up and +set off northward with a brisk stride. The money was safe enough in the +valley for the present, he decided, and a couple of months in the +Riverina would not only not do him any harm, but would allow the hue and +cry time to die down. After that he would come back and get the gold, +and this time there would be no question of division; it would be his, +all of it. Now that the daylight had come he could think of the dark +figure suddenly growing limp in his arms and the smell of fresh blood +mixing with the scent of the wattles without the slightest misgiving. He +had no fear of it; he certainly felt no remorse. The further he got from +the scene of the murder, the lighter grew his spirits. He turned the +situation over in his mind and found abundant satisfaction in it; his +primitive logic told him that there was no evidence against him. + + * * * * * + +It is doubtful who was the most surprised, the troopers or Bradby when +he stumbled unexpectedly into their camp that evening. They were not the +men who had been following the bushrangers from the start, but another +body, warned by wire and hurriedly sent out from Murtoa. For some +unexplained reason the camp-fire had been allowed to die down, and so +there was no red glow to warn Bradby of their proximity. He had +blundered into the midst of the men before he quite realised what had +happened, and, when he made a wild dash for safety, he found that all +way of escape had been cut off. He was hemmed in on every side. The +troop was in charge of an officer of more than average intelligence, and +he instantly jumped to the correct conclusion. Had Bradby not lost his +head and endeavored to escape, he might have been able to pass himself +off as a prospector or something of the sort, but the mere sight of his +all-too-evident anxiety to get away wakened the suspicions of the +sergeant. The Grampians and the country surrounding them had hitherto +been singularly free from crime, and no malefactors from other parts of +the State were known to be at large in that neighbourhood. Obviously +this man, who displayed such a disinclination to meet the police, must +be a criminal, and just as obviously must he be one of the men wanted +for the gold escort robbery. The sergeant decided in one lightning flash +on a plan that he hoped would startle the man into betraying himself. +The moment Bradby turned to retreat and found himself hemmed in, the +other walked over to him, scrutinised him carefully, and in the same +instant placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "I arrest you in the +Queen's name for the robbery of the Gold Escort on the night of 1st +December." + +Bradby's jaw dropped and he stared open-mouthed at the other. He could +not understand the process of almost instantaneous reasoning by which +the officer had arrived at this conclusion, and the swift scrutiny the +man had given him convinced him that in some strange and unaccountable +way a description of him had been obtained and circulated. The man had +recognised him, of that he felt sure. + +All round him were staring policemen, watching him intently with eyes +that were no less full of astonishment than his own. They could not +fathom the reasons that actuated their chief, but they realised, all of +them, that the man before them must be in some guilty way connected with +the robbery. His very manner told them that. + +The chief uttered the usual warning: "It is my duty to warn you that +anything you say will be used in evidence----" He got so far when Bradby +awoke from his stupor. He gave no warning of his intention, but his +doubled fist shot out, caught the other on the point of the jaw and +dropped him in a heap on the ground. Then with the swiftness of thought +he leaped to one side, pulling his revolver loose at the same instant. +He had just the smallest fraction of a second's start of the police, and +in the flurry of the moment he actually burst through the cordon that +had formed around him. The next instant the carbines of the police +commenced to bark. Bradby stumbled, recovered himself, and fired over +his shoulder. Several of the troopers were already on horseback, and it +was only a matter of riding him down. He saw this himself, and his +futile shot was designed to stop one at least of the horses. However, it +went wide. He slipped behind a tree and began snap-shooting at the +advancing mounted men. They spread out fanwise, thus coming at him from +three sides at once. He moved slightly in order to get a better aim, and +in doing so unwittingly exposed himself. One of the troopers, who had +discarded his carbine in favor of a revolver, took a flying shot. Bradby +lurched from behind the tree, clasped his hands to his left side and +slipped down on to the grass. + +When they reached him the blood was welling out of his side, and they +saw that he was mortally wounded. The man who had fired the fatal shot +dropped on his knees beside him and lifted up his head. Bradby's face +was ashy pale, even in the faint moonlight one could see that, but he +was still conscious. + +"It's no use," he panted. "I'm done." + +"Where is the gold and where are your mates?" the man asked, conscious +that a word from the dying bushranger would solve everything. Bradby's +frame shook spasmodically, and when the other looked again there was +blood on his pale lips. + +"Through the lung," muttered one of the others who had some knowledge of +medical science. + +The first man repeated his question in another form. + +Bradby looked at him with a strangely inscrutable face and with eyes +that were already darkening with the shadow of death. + +"Where's the gold? Where's ... my ... mates?" The last three words were +almost whispered. + +"Yes," said the trooper eagerly. "Where are they?" + +The dying man moved his lips, but no sound issued from them. The other +bent down closer to him. + +"That," said the bushranger with long and painful pauses between each +word, "you ... will ... never ... know." + +And with that last taunt on his lips he died. + +"Game to the end," the trooper said to his comrades with an admiration +he made no effort to hide. + + * * * * * + +The blow had not killed Abel Cumshaw. He lay unconscious for the better +part of the night, and even when the day dawned he was too weak at first +to do more than crawl a few paces at the most. His head was throbbing, +his mouth was a raging furnace, and all his limbs felt as if they had +been racked and twisted. When daylight came at length he lay still for a +while, trying to recollect what had happened. But his mind was a perfect +blank and he himself was a man without an identity. The blow that had +knocked him unconscious had somehow affected his memory, and he knew no +more about himself than he did about the man in the moon. Something +terrible had happened, something in which he had played a very prominent +part, that much he realised; but beyond that simple fact his +recollection did not extend. He groped about in the grass in the hope +that he might find something that would give him a clue to the +situation. His hand fell on his revolver. That at least was tangible, +but there was nothing enlightening about it. Further search revealed a +small flat piece of wood. He picked it up curiously and stared at it. +Two or three sentences had been hurriedly scratched on its smooth +surface with the point of a sharp knife, but though they were +intelligible enough they did not appear to refer to anything concerning +him. The mere fact that he had been lying almost on top of the wood +struck him as strange, and in a moment of unusual thoughtfulness he +slipped it into his pocket. + +It was bright day by then, and the warmth of the sun seemed to revive +him to a marvellous extent. He got on his feet more by sheer will-power +than by any sudden accession of strength. He found that he could stagger +along, though his pace was necessarily slow and his course very erratic. +Some uncharted sense, instinct perhaps, led him along the track to the +creek where he had pitched his camp the previous evening. There was a +dim familiarity about the place that puzzled him. He felt in some absurd +way that he should recognise it, and he was both angry and surprised +that he could not. He found the remains of the parrot that Bradby had +eaten for breakfast, and he wondered vaguely who the man might be who +had been so close to him that morning. His wonder was such an impersonal +thing that he did not connect his own condition with the fact of the +other man's presence. Something had given way inside his head, that +something that controlled rational and consecutive memory. He sat down +on the bank of the creek and gazed into space. It would be incorrect to +say that he was dazed or that he behaved like a man in a dream. Those +are stock terms that in themselves are quite inadequate to convey his +peculiar state of mind and body. It was something more than lassitude, +yet it was not quite fatigue. It was rather as if some integral part of +his brain had been removed. + +It is impossible to say just how long he remained on the bank of the +creek. At last his hunger became so acute that he determined to go off +foraging. He had his revolver with him; he was a fair enough shot, and +so it was not long before he tumbled a 'possum out of a tree. He made a +rough meal of it, and after that set off aimlessly into the bush. Had he +kept to his original intention he would have speedily wandered into the +Mallee, and would have run a good chance of dying of starvation in that +thinly-populated district. But his mind was still in a whirl, and +instinct alone guided his footsteps to the east. He was many miles north +of the valley and during his travels he moved further north, so that he +did not come across it during his journey back. + +His subsequent adventures are not very clear. Early in his travels the +piece of wood began to trouble him, and he decided that the sooner he +got rid of it the better. It is more than likely that he connected it in +some way with that blank feeling of inexplicable tragedy which seemed to +overshadow him. His instinct, however, led him to hide rather than +destroy it. He read the wording very carefully, but it failed to awaken +any responsive chords in his memory. As an after-thought, just as he was +about to slide the wood into the hole he had scraped out, he took his +knife and cut his name below the screed. Then he thrust it into the hole +and stamped the earth in on top of it. In this relation it is +interesting to notice the connection between the hiding of the money and +the burying of the wood that held the key to the position of the former. +It seems as if the sub-conscious memory of the one act had its influence +on the man in his performance of the other. + +Thereafter Mr. Cumshaw simply disappeared off the face of the earth. His +son's story is that he went to New South Wales, married there and raised +a family, and in the light of subsequent events that seems to be what +most likely occurred. It is known, however, that the Cumshaws were in +Victoria again somewhere about nineteen hundred and two or three, Albert +being at that time seven years old. + +With the lapse of years Abel had gradually recovered his memory, and bit +by bit most of the incidents of the robbery had stolen out of the +shrouded darkness of the past. He appears to have been perfectly +contented with his family, and for one reason and another the gold +remained undisturbed through the long years. The time was coming when +the old play would be staged again and new actors would arise to carry +it through. + +The tale of the gold robbery and the shooting of Mr. Jack Bradby, as the +reader will readily understand, passed into the police records and thus +became matters of history. Though no definite statement has been left +us, Mr. Bryce must have first come across the story during his +researches into Victorian history. He had friends in the Department, and +it is quite feasible that he had ready access to many official documents +that are usually beyond the reach of the ordinary public. He was not the +only one in this enviable position. There were other students of the +past who were moving along the same lines, and as he pieced together the +puzzle of the robbery he was followed by a pair of agile, unscrupulous +brains every whit as clever as he. The police records told Mr. Bryce +just this much:--On the first day of December, 1881, there had been a +gold robbery, and the robbers had got completely away. They had been +followed, and subsequently a man had been killed in the Grampians who +had been identified as John Bradby, a noted sheep and cattle-duffer. +When dying he refused to tell who his pals were, and had in the same +breath stated that the police would never find the gold. That in itself +was conclusive, yet the additional fact remained that the whereabouts of +the gold was still as big a mystery as ever it had been. The opinion of +the police was that the other members of the gang--they seemed to think +that it was a fairly large one--had returned when the hue and cry had +died away and recovered the plunder. Bryce, reading between the lines of +the dry official record, rather thought that they hadn't. At any rate +the element of mystery was sufficiently strong to induce him to +investigate the matter further. That was really the beginning of the +trouble. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE HEGIRA OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW. + + +Early in January, 1919, Mr. Bryce had advanced so far in his +investigations that he resolved on taking a trip to the country around +the Grampians. He had nothing very definite to go on beyond the facts +that the robbery had been committed at one spot and Mr. Bradby had been +killed at another, and logically the gold must have been hidden +somewhere in between. He had hopes that he might stumble on something +that in his capable hands would prove to be a clue to the long-lost +hiding-place of the gold. Before he made any preparations he inserted an +advertisement in several of the leading dailies. It ran somehow like +this:--"Wanted--A capable and intelligent assistant to take part in +dangerous expedition to Grampians. Apply," and then followed his name +and address. He was convinced in his own mind that someone amongst those +who read this notice would have some inkling at least of the events of +1st December, 1881, and he rather fancied that he or they would be on +the alert. In that case it was just possible that the persons concerned +would either approach him with a guarded offer or would dog his +footsteps. In either case there was a chance of Mr. Bryce picking up +information that might be to his immediate advantage. He convinced +himself that there were still people living who had played an intimate +part in the affairs of that memorable night. + +The advertisement, however, had two results that were unforeseen by Mr. +Bryce. The third day after the insertion of the notice he was informed +that a gentleman wanted to see him. He requested that the man be shown +into his study. In due course the visitor arrived. He was a man +somewhere in the neighbourhood of sixty, but, save for a slight greying +of the hair about his temples, he showed little outward signs of his +age. His eyes, which were of a deep, unfathomable black, were very alert +and followed Mr. Bryce's every movement with a glittering serenity, if +one can use the expression, that was very disturbing. + +"Sit down," said Mr. Bryce, and he waved his visitor to a chair. + +The man sat down in the chair indicated, looked Mr. Bryce up and down, +without, however, the least sign of offensiveness in his gaze, and said +without any further preliminary, "I've come to see you about that +advertisement." + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce non-committally. "Yes, that ad. What about it?" + +"I think," said the other with his eyes fixed intently on Mr. Bryce, "I +think I am the best man for the job." + +"I haven't told you yet what the job is," Mr. Bryce objected. + +"That's so," the other admitted. "Beyond saying that it was dangerous, +you did not attempt to describe it. It doesn't matter what you want in +the Grampians. I'm the man to take. I know the place well." + +"It's changed vastly in thirty years," Bryce said suddenly. + +The other must have been expecting something like this, for he never +turned a hair. As far as he was concerned Mr. Bryce's observation might +have been the most casual remark in the world. He ignored it. Perhaps it +would have been better had he commented on it and asked what association +to-day's expedition had with what had happened during thirty odd years. +He passed the matter over in silence, and in that instant Bryce guessed +that the man knew as much, if not more, than he did. + +"Do you know why I advertised that expedition as dangerous?" Bryce +asked, seeing that the other made no attempt to reply. + +The man shook his head. "No, I don't," he said distinctly. + +"I'll tell you," said Bryce, and he leaned forward in simulated +confidence. "I'm fat and I wheeze. My bellows are all to blazes and the +doctors won't give a rap for my heart. I might go out any minute, more +especially if there's any extra exertion. Now I want a man who won't ask +questions, who will do the exertions for two, and take what's coming +with a grin." + +"That sounds simple enough," the man remarked. "May I ask what we are +after?" + +"I'm searching for gold," said Bryce with a startling clearness. + +The other shifted in his seat, looked at Bryce as if to measure the +possibilities of his next remark, and then said, "There's no gold +there." + +"You mean," said Bryce, "that none's ever been discovered there; quite a +different thing. I hope to discover some before I'm done." + +"It's too far west for mines," the other asserted. + +Mr. Bryce passed over the man's statement in a way that showed that as +far as he was concerned that aspect of the matter was over and done +with. The obvious answer for him to make would have been, "Gold comes in +other ways than out of mines," but he was cautious enough not to air all +his knowledge at once. + +"What's your name?" he demanded. + +"Abel Cumshaw," the other answered, and saw by the way Bryce screwed up +his brows that it conveyed nothing to him. + +"Well, Mr. Cumshaw, would you care to take this job on?" + +"How long would we be away?" + +"Six weeks or two months. I'm not certain of that." + +"When do we start?" + +"This is Monday. Be here Friday and we'll get right away. Friday +morning, mind, at ten-thirty sharp. That's all, I think. Good-day." + +After Mr. Cumshaw had gone Bryce slipped back in his chair and laughed +till his whole face creased up in rolls of quivering fat. "That's a good +one on him," he murmured. "He didn't ask what screw he was to get, and I +didn't tell him because I wanted to see if he'd ask. But he didn't, so +he must have been thinking of something else. He's anxious to get to the +Grampians, darned anxious. From the way he went on he seems to know a +bit about the place too. I wonder has he any suspicion?... Good Lord! +wouldn't it be a streak of luck if he knew! Yes, I did the right thing +in sending in that ad. One man's bitten at any rate." + +He went about the house all day chuckling away to himself. + + * * * * * + +The second incident which occurred that same day was of even a more +disturbing nature. Late that afternoon the telephone bell rang, and when +Bryce answered it a voice asked if he was the Mr. Bryce who had +advertised for an assistant in an expedition to the Grampians. + +"That's me," said Bryce. "But I'm sorry to say that the position's +filled." + +"Why are you sorry?" the voice asked disconcertingly. + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce. "Aren't you after it?" + +"No chance," said the voice. "As a matter of fact, I was on the point of +writing out a similar one myself, when I saw yours and guessed I'd let +you do the work." + +"Who are you?" Bryce demanded with a trace of sharpness in his voice. + +The man at the other end of the wire laughed cheerfully. "Never you +mind," he said. "You'll know soon enough, as soon as you've landed Jack +Bradby's plunder. Now, I want to put up a sporting proposition to you. +We'll retire gracefully, if you'll split fifty-fifty." + +"We!" Bryce repeated. "So there's more than one of you?" + +"There's lots of us, and we've got the whip hand of you because, you +see, you don't know who we are. We know you; we've been following a +couple of jumps behind you right through all the records, and we guess +it's high time we cashed in." + +"I'll see you in Hell first!" said Bryce angrily. + +"Probably you will," said the voice with a chuckle. "If you won't treat +with us, we'll get what we want in other ways." + +"No, by thunder, you won't!" said Bryce shortly. "I'll warn you that +I'll shoot on sight." + +"So do we," the other laughed. "I hope, for your sake, you recognise us +first, though I don't think it likely." + +"If I catch you monkeying around I'll fill you so full of holes that +your own mother won't know you from a colander," Bryce threatened; but +the voice laughed irritatingly, and when Bryce tried to get a reply he +found that the other had rung off. + +He flickered the hook with his finger. "Exchange," he said, giving his +number, "can you tell me who was speaking just now?" + +"Box three, G. P. O. public 'phones," said the girl wearily. + +"Oh, hell!" said Bryce in disgust, and hung up the receiver. + + * * * * * + +The rest of the week passed without incident of any sort, and, despite +the warning he had received. Bryce went on calmly with his preparations. +For all the fat flabbiness of him he was grit through and through, and +it took more than a warning over the telephone to turn him aside once he +had made up his mind to take a certain course. He went on quietly and +silently; his only sign of perturbation was that first thing on Tuesday +he slipped down town and bought a big calibre revolver. + +Friday morning came, and at ten-thirty exactly, not a minute before or +after, Mr. Abel Cumshaw knocked at the front door and was admitted. He +was shown at once into Mr. Bryce's study, where that gentleman awaited +him, watch in hand. + +"On time to the tick," he said affably as Cumshaw entered the room. +"Everything's ready for an immediate start. I suppose you've got all you +want." + +"I'm always ready at a moment's notice," Cumshaw said. "I travel light. +I'm an old campaigner." + +"That's the way I like to hear a man talk," Bryce said breezily. "We'll +be going in my car as far as we can. After that we'll have to walk, and +I'm not a very good hand at that. There's some rough spots up there, +they tell me," he said off-handedly. For all his seeming nonchalance he +was watching Cumshaw intently, and he saw him give an almost +imperceptible start. It flashed across Bryce's mind that perhaps Cumshaw +was in the pay of the people who had gone to such pains to 'phone him. A +second look at the man convinced him that such was not the case. +Cumshaw's eyes were frank and clear, and met his unswervingly. They were +not the eyes of a man who was playing a double game. + +There was something in them that Bryce did not quite understand. It was +the animation of newly-resurrected hope, such a light as might have +shone in the eyes of the men who rode to find the Holy Grail. Bryce knew +nothing of him or his history, and his only thought was that in some +queer way the man had a vital interest in the Grampians. It must be +remembered that, as far as known facts were concerned, Bryce knew +nothing more than the police records had told him. True, his reasoning +faculties, which were none of the densest, carried him a little further, +but he would have been the very first to admit his fallibility. Nothing +had occurred as yet to connect Cumshaw with Mr. Jack Bradby. He +recognised that the man had a definite object in view in going to the +Grampians--that was plain enough--but it might after all be merely +coincidence. Such things have happened. Mr. Cumshaw, on the other hand, +was alert and suspicious. He suspected everybody and everything, and he +had answered the advertisement solely because he believed, or affected +to believe, that an expedition to the hill country could have no other +object that the recovery of the gold. Doubtless it will appear strange +that Mr. Cumshaw had allowed so many years to elapse without attempting +to secure it for himself, but, as he told Bryce later on, there were +reasons even for that. + + * * * * * + +They stopped at Ballarat for lunch; Bryce refilled the petrol tank, and +then they set out on the long stretch to Ararat. Though no definite +statement exists, they passed the night at the latter town, for Cumshaw +afterwards told his son that they reached Landsborough about 10.30 the +following morning. Beyond Landsborough the track became very trying for +the car, and somewhere towards the evening of the second day the machine +was hidden away securely in one of the many gullies that abounded in the +neighbourhood. Then the hardest part of the journey began. Child's play +though it might have been to Cumshaw, who, for all his years, had a +constitution such as it is given to a few men to possess, it certainly +must have been a matter of infinite torture to Bryce, handicapped as he +was with his weak-heart and his wheezy lungs. + +They spent the next few days in working across to the spot where Bradby +had been killed thirty odd years before. As they drew near to the place +Cumshaw became more self-contained and uncommunicative than ever. The +sight of the old scene seemed to have depressed him marvellously. Bryce +watched him with increasing attentiveness; he noticed that he picked out +the road as if he had been used to it from childhood. There were times +when Bryce turned suddenly on him and caught a glimpse of a hard-set jaw +and a mouth about which strong lines of determination had woven +themselves. Yet, as soon as Cumshaw fancied he was observed, the mask of +his face melted into a smile, and the sombre eyes sparkled with a humor +that somehow seemed too real to be assumed. + +"You seem very familiar with the place, Cumshaw," Bryce remarked one +morning. + +"I told you I was," Cumshaw answered, his unfathomable eyes searching +his employer's face. + +"How long is it since you were here last?" Bryce asked. + +At the question all expression vanished from the other's face, leaving +it as immobile as a carven image of stone. "I have been here many +times," he said evasively. + +"Um!" said Bryce in that peculiar way of his, and he looked the other up +and down contemplatively. "I didn't think anyone had been here since +Bradby was shot." + +Bryce made the remark in the most casual and innocent way; he hadn't the +faintest notion in the world that what he had said was like a bombshell +bursting beneath the structure of Mr. Cumshaw's composure. He was +intelligent enough to realise that it was more than probable that +Cumshaw possessed knowledge of that almost forgotten episode which was +not shared with anyone else, but he had not the least suspicion that his +casual utterance would hit home so shrewdly as it did. + +Mr. Cumshaw stared at him as if he could not believe his ears. For once +he made no attempt to disguise his emotions beneath the mask of +stoicism. He saw laughter in the other's eyes, the jovial laughter of a +man who has always known the sweets of victory, and he jumped to the +natural though erroneous conclusion that Bryce had fathomed his +connection with the late Mr. Bradby. For all that he did not abandon his +defences without some show of resistance. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded in the belligerent attitude of a man who +is fighting a desperate though losing fight. + +"Just what I said, Mr. Cumshaw," Bryce smiled. "What else did you think +I meant?" + +The quiet question was put in such an unexpectedly mild tone that +Cumshaw was left wordless for the nonce, though his face showed in all +their fulness the emotions that were stirring within him. Doubt, +indecision, fear of a kind. + +"I thought----," he said and then stopped short. + +"You thought," Bryce repeated with a gentle persuasiveness in his voice. +"What was it you thought, Cumshaw?" + +They were both fencing, in sporting parlance "sparring for wind," each +of them with the Big Idea almost within reach, and each not daring yet +to put it into words. For the space of a heart-beat they stared into +each other's eyes, seeking to read the other's thoughts. In the end it +was Cumshaw who gave in first. He tore his eyes away from that fixed yet +kindly gaze that seemed to search and read his very soul. + +"I see," said Bryce, with a sudden intake of breath that lent a sibilant +quality to his speech, "I see that we are on the same track. Mr. +Cumshaw, place your cards on the table. You are after the gold that +Bradby hid; so am I. Our aims are the same. Let us be partners, instead +of employer and assistant. What do you know that I do not? What do I +know that you do not?" + +Like most fat and comfortable people Bryce was the soul of generosity, +and his offer was dictated not so much by expediency as by a sense of +the pity that he felt for this man, who seemed to have aged years in the +last few minutes. He, too, in his time had known what it meant to have +the prize within a hand's touch and then at the last moment lose it +after all. + +"You know nothing about me," Cumshaw said impulsively. "You don't know +who I am or what I've been. You haven't an idea...." + +Bryce cut him short with a sweeping gesture of his chubby hands. "My +dear man," he said, "what you've been doesn't matter a tinker's curse to +me. It's what you are that counts." + +"You don't even know that," the other answered, his lips curling in a +wry smile. + +"I'll know as soon as you tell me," Bryce hinted. + +It is a difficult matter for a man, who all his life has held a close +secret, to divulge it at a moment's notice, in a sudden fit of warm +friendliness, to a comparative stranger, and so Abel Cumshaw found it. +It is even harder to surrender one's hopes and ambitions in favor of a +potential rival, honest and all as that rival may appear to be. For one +brief moment Cumshaw paused on the brink of revelation, the while he +weighed the matter in his mind. In some strange way Bryce had guessed +that he was after the gold, but did he know why and how? Cumshaw rather +fancied he didn't. He was so sure of it that he decided that he would +gain nothing by divulging the connection between himself and the late +Mr. Bradby. So the mouth which was opening to speak shut up again like a +steel trap, and the dark eyes turned bleak and cold. He looked Bryce +steadily and calmly in the face. + +"There is nothing to tell," he said, and turned on his heel. + + * * * * * + +Black night had descended on the forest many hours before, so many in +fact that the camp fire had sunk to a feeble red glow, and the dying +embers were already circled by a ring of dead white ash. The breeze was +crooning softly through the branches of the trees, singing weird +chanties to itself. In between the murmurs of the wind there came +another sound, the indistinct sound of a sleepy man mumbling to himself. +Bryce half-raised himself on one elbow and listened. Half a dozen feet +away from him Cumshaw lay tightly rolled in his blankets. He tossed +restlessly and once all but sat up. Bryce dropped quickly but +soundlessly back into a prone position. But the alarm had been a false +one, and presently he quietly raised himself again. The indistinct +mumbling went on as before, and he strained his ears to catch some +intelligible word. + +"Kill me, would you?" he heard the other say. + +His voice sank again, and for a time he mumbled and mouthed his words so +that Bryce missed most of what he said. He was just on the point of +settling down again when Cumshaw suddenly sat up. + +"I'll beat you yet, Bradby!" he cried with startling distinctness. +"You're dead now and the gold's mine." + +His eyes opened and he stared dazedly around him. Bryce was lying prone +and snoring away hoggishly. He was fast asleep; there was not the +slightest doubt in the mind of the man who watched him so closely. + +"I must have dreamt I said it," Cumshaw murmured to himself. "If I'd +spoken the way I thought I had he'd have been wide-awake." And then he +in his turn composed himself to slumber. + + * * * * * + +They were very quiet at breakfast. Bryce was turning the situation over +in his mind, viewing it from all possible angles and seeking some method +of getting Cumshaw to speak without in any way antagonising him. Cumshaw +himself was troubled by lingering doubts. It was quite possible after +all that Bryce had heard him, supposing he had spoken aloud, and was +quietly dissembling for some purpose of his own. His very thoughtfulness +seemed to lend color to that idea. He looked at Bryce across the carpet +of grass and at the same instant Bryce raised his eyes. They stared at +each other with the breathless intensity of two men who know that in all +things they are evenly matched. Each was striving to the last atom of +his will-power to break down the resistance of the other and force him +in some way to take the initiative. At last it was Bryce who dropped his +eyes a fraction and Cumshaw who breathed a sigh of relief. But his +relief was short-lived, for in the last half-second his guard had +relaxed. Bryce said: + +"Why did Bradby want to kill you, Mr. Cumshaw?" + +The quick yet calm question, covering as it did the one episode of which +nobody but the two participants could possibly have any knowledge, +startled Cumshaw. For once his impassive face showed signs of fear, and +his eyes became those of a hunted man. He half-rose to his feet and then +dropped back again, as if aware of the uselessness of flight. He tried +to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. In one short sentence Bryce +had shattered all his hopes and pulled his airy castles to the ground. +Did this man but like to speak he would be once again Cumshaw the +bushranger, the man who had been hand in glove with Bradby, and who, +through some miracle of mischance, had not been bracketed with his dead +colleague. Bryce knew all apparently, and a word from him----. Cumshaw +shivered. + +"You can trust me," Bryce said softly. "I guess I know your secret now. +You and Bradby carried out that robbery between you. You hid the gold, +and for one reason and another you've never retrieved it. Isn't that +it?" + +Cumshaw nodded. It was too late now to deny anything, even if he had so +felt inclined. Nemesis in the shape of this laughing-eyed, gross-bodied +man, had come upon him in his old age, and there was nothing for it but +to take what was coming with as good a grace as he could muster. + +"What happened thirty years or more ago is over and done with," Bryce +ran on, "and I'm not the sort to bring it into the light of day again. +I'm after that gold, and, in order to get it, I'm quite ready to repeat +my previous offer. We each seem to have something that the other lacks. +You can tell me many things I don't know. Of that I'm sure." + +"There's a lot of things you seem sure of," Cumshaw said with a +half-defiant air. + +"I'm as sure that you're the man who was with Bradby as if I'd seen it +all myself," Bryce stated. "Remember, before you refuse, that it's +always better to compromise than fight. Furthermore, if you have to +fight, it's much better to have an ally you can rely on." + +"What's that?" Cumshaw demanded with a show of interest. "What do you +mean?" + +"Only this," Bryce said slowly. "There's another crowd on the track, and +they've already warned me that they'll make the going heavy. If you've +got to be up against them, why not throw in your lot with me? It's +fifty-fifty with us; if you stand out on your own, you'll probably lose +it all." + +"I think you've got me in a cleft stick," Cumshaw said a trifle +ruefully. "I can't see that I can refuse. Now how much do you know?" + +Said Mr. Bryce untruthfully, "I know everything except where you've +hidden the gold." + +"And even I couldn't swear to that," Cumshaw said. + +"It seems to me," said Bryce dryly, "that the best thing you can do is +to tell me the whole story." + +He listened eagerly to the tale, occasionally stopping the other to +question him on some obscure point, sometimes helping him along with a +comment that threw unexpected light in the dark corners of the story. + +"It amounts to this," he said when Cumshaw had finished. "Bradby buried +the gold in this hidden valley of yours. It's so hidden--the valley, I +mean--that you only came on it by accident, and you have no definite +idea as to its whereabouts. It's three or four days' journey into the +mountains, that's all you can say. There's no way of recognising it from +the outside that you know of. Well, I'll tell you this, Mr. Cumshaw. +It's my frank opinion that your clever murderous friend had some way of +finding it again, or he wouldn't have been in such haste to make away +with you. He knew what he was doing, you can depend on it. Now I wonder +if he left any clue?" + +"I've got a hazy memory that he left directions somewhere and that I had +them," Cumshaw said despondently, "but I can't say what happened to +them. You must remember that I was wandering about half-delirious for a +long while after I got knocked, and it was years before I got really +right again. I might have lost any note he made; I might have done +anything with it." + +"You might have and that's a fact," Mr. Bryce agreed. "Now you say +you've hunted for this valley many times during the last ten years or +so." + +Cumshaw nodded. "It seems funny," he said, "but I've never been able to +find it." + +"There's nothing funny about it," Bryce told him. "History and fiction +abound with instances of similar miscalculations. I'll guarantee that +there are scores of such places in every continent in the world. +Australia's got just as many as any other place. What made you want to +hunt it up again after all those years?" + +"Old associations, I suppose," Cumshaw said half-ashamedly. "While I was +in New South Wales--I went there, you understand, until things blew over +a bit--and my wife was alive, I didn't want anything else but to be near +her. When she died and things began to go wrong with me, I drifted back +here. Money was short. I was living as best I could, and there were the +children to look after, and the sight of the old places brought things +back to my mind. I was beginning to dig bits up from the memory of the +past--the doctors have some fancy name for lapses like mine, though I +could never remember what it was--and then one day I asked myself why +shouldn't I go after the gold? It was as much mine as anyone else's, now +that Bradby was dead, and the Bank that originally owned it had gone +smash about the Land Boom time from what I could gather. I went, but I +missed the place somehow. I went time and again, but it was always like +that 'Lost Mountain' story of Mayne Reid's, though a valley's harder to +find than a mountain you'd think. I couldn't find it anyhow, and that's +about all there is to it." + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce, and he ran his hand softly across his chin. "We +are up against a bigger thing than I thought. I'm hanged if I can see a +glimmer of light anywhere. Is there anything you can suggest?" + +Cumshaw did not reply. He was staring straight ahead of him, staring +intently, and little furrows of anxiety marred the serenity of his +forehead. He was peering into the shadows of the trees as if his eyes +were twin searchlights that could cut substance from the gloom. He was +staring so intently that Bryce whirled round, fully convinced that his +friends of the telephone were upon them. + +"What's wrong?" he queried in a hoarse whisper. "What are you looking +at?" + +"Nothing," said Cumshaw. "I thought I heard something moving, that's +all." + +Bryce in his turn peered intently in between the tree-boles, but the +shadows lay thick upon the grass between, and it was difficult to define +even the shapes of the more distant timber. The place was still and +gloomy, full of grim forebodings, like a summer sky in which a storm is +gathering. + +"We must have been mistaken," Bryce remarked in his embracing way. +"There doesn't seem to be anyone about." + +"Hands up!" snapped a crisp voice, and in the surprise of the moment +Bryce obeyed. Cumshaw had no such intention. He dropped suddenly on to +the ground even as a shot rang out, and a bullet whistled close above +his head. The next instant he was crashing swiftly through the bushes, +spinning down into the gully like a human projectile. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE GATHERING OF THE EAGLES. + + +At first Bryce could see nothing but the dull gleam of unpolished metal +from the barrel of a revolver which protruded from behind a tree, but a +further scrutiny showed him the dim outlines of a man's figure standing +in that place of gloom and ghosts. The man stepped out from his +hiding-place, even as Bryce watched him, and was followed almost +instantly by another man. They were both somewhere about the same +height, in the neighbourhood of five feet ten. Their features were not +visible, for each of them wore a handkerchief about his face in the +time-honored fashion of the men of the road, and a hat pulled well down +over the eyes completed the disguise. + +"Well, Mr. Bryce," said the man in front, "what have you got to say for +yourself?" + +"It's a funny thing," remarked Bryce, with the adventures of Mr. Cumshaw +and the late Mr. Bradby in his mind, "it's funny how history repeats +itself." + +The leader made a step forward and stared intently at Bryce. "You're the +man right enough," he said. "Where's your pal?" + +"Ask me something easy," sneered Bryce, "and I'd be obliged if you'd let +me drop my hands awhile. This is getting fairly tiresome." + +"You should have thought of that before you started that business," the +other one reminded him. "It's rather late now to be finding out the +flaws in your plans." + +The sneering smile on Mr. Bryce's face broadened into a grin of triumph. +"Didn't you ever hear the proverb about glass-houses and the people who +live in them?" he enquired blandly. + +The first speaker stared at him, but the other one said impatiently, +"Finish him off, Alick, and let's get it over." + +The man called Alick answered in a subdued voice. Bryce did not catch +what he said, but supposed it to be a counsel of caution. His smile grew +in intensity, so much so that Alick snapped at him. "What the deuce are +you grinning at, you fat fool?" he demanded. + +"You'll know soon enough," Bryce said with a chuckle. He looked right +past them into the shadows of the trees, on his face the joyful +expression of a man who sees the long-locked gates of his prison swing +open before him. Both men whirled round with a chorus of oaths. They +were quite positive that Bryce's mate had stolen a march on them and +crept up behind their backs. They had their heads turned away but for +the fraction of a second, but the time, short though it was, was plenty +long enough for Mr. Bryce. With an agility, remarkable in a man of his +weight and state of health, he faded into the landscape like some fat +fairy. + +"Fooled!" said Alick's companion, and he whipped round to face his +prisoner, only to find that the keen-brained Mr. Bryce had vanished as +completely as if he had been blown off the face of the earth. + +"Nice pair of goats we are," remarked Alick disgustedly. + +The other said nothing, but stood for a moment in a state of indecision. +At that precise instant a pencil of flame shot out from one of the trees +immediately in front of them, and Alick dropped his revolver with a howl +of pain. + +"He's winged me," he said, and applied to Mr. Bryce an epithet not +usually heard in polite society. + +His mate fired at the tree from which the shot had evidently come, but +the bullet did nothing more than flatten itself against the trunk in a +shower of dust and dry bark. Mr. Bryce's revolver spoke once again. This +time he failed to register. + +"The sooner we get out of this the better," said Alick, with one hand +clasped to his injured shoulder. "The beggar'll riddle us both if we +stop here." + +The other man grunted his approval of the suggestion and proceeded to +carry it into effect at once. + +"Better look where you are going," Alick advised. "That other chap's +about somewhere, perhaps waiting for us." + +The other consigned both Bryce and his assistant to a place more noted +for its warmth than its comfort. Despite their forebodings Mr. Cumshaw +did not put in an appearance, and they gained the shelter of the thick +timber in safety. + +Once he was sure that they had really departed Mr. Bryce stepped out +from behind his tree, first, however, with commendable caution reloading +the heavy revolver he carried. The smile was still flickering about the +corners of his mouth, but there was a little wrinkle of anxiety across +his forehead. + +"I wonder where the devil Cumshaw's gone?" he remarked to the +unresponsive trees. "He went off like a scared rabbit. I'd better hunt +for him. I can't get on without him now." + +With the laudable intention of finding Mr. Cumshaw as soon as possible +he began to scour the neighbourhood. + +When Mr. Cumshaw disappeared so precipitately it was with the idea that +he must maintain his freedom at any cost. True, Bryce might be captured, +but by the same token he could be rescued just as easily. Though his +intentions were right enough he was prevented in the simplest manner +possible from carrying them into effect. He went crashing through the +bushes as has already been related, and found himself on the edge of +what was nothing more or less than a blind creek. The sides were covered +with matted brushwood and were as slippery as glass. His momentum was +such that he could not stop himself in time, and he went head over heels +down the side of the gully, and spun on to the boulder-covered bottom +like some new and monstrous kind of Catherine wheel. He collided with +the rounded surface of one of the big weather-worn rocks which lay +strewn about the gully floor like the tremendous marbles of a giant. + +The world spun round him in a blaze of colored lights, and his head felt +as if it were filled with fireworks. Then in an instant all sensation +ceased as though cut off with the clean sweep of a naked sword. Mr. +Cumshaw lay still and lifeless under the shadow of the brushwood-covered +gully. + +Some half an hour later, when Bryce happened on this very spot, he +pulled the bushes aside cautiously and peered down almost between his +toes; but the shadows lay thick beneath him, and the edge of the gully +so projected that he could not see the body of the man for whom he was +searching. Slowly he retraced his steps. He was deeply puzzled by this +new aspect of the affair. It seemed impossible that Cumshaw could have +completely disappeared in so short a space of time, yet the fact that he +could not be found was in itself proof conclusive. Had Bryce lingered a +couple of seconds longer he would have seen the rapidly-recovering +Cumshaw turn over on his side, raise one hand to his head, and present a +startled face to the scanty rays of light that filtered down to him. In +a sense his revival was something more than a recovery; it was a +resurrection. The years rolled away in an instant, and he ceased to be +the Abel Cumshaw who had fallen down the side of the gully and cracked +his head against an extra-large sized boulder; he became the Abel +Cumshaw who had just been knocked into unconsciousness by the butt of +Mr. Bradby's revolver, and whose head still throbbed with the force of +the blow. + +He stared uncomprehendingly at the steep sides of the gully; they had no +place in his gallery of mental pictures. He had a vague idea that there +should be a creek somewhere close at hand. His head was throbbing, +pulsing as if some mighty engine were working inside it. He rose +unsteadily to his feet and regarded the steep declivities which formed +the sides of the gully with a contemplative eye. He decided that they +were climbable, but that he must wait awhile before he made the attempt. +He was weak yet; one does not recover instantaneously from a crack on +the head. He moved very carefully when he moved at all, and he kept well +within the shadows of the overhanging banks. Mr. Bradby was somewhere +handy, he argued, extremely ready and willing to finish him off, and it +would never do to give him another chance. He had no idea that Mr. +Bradby had died long years ago. Time had telescoped and he was back +again in the early eighties. With the addled craftiness of a half-witted +creature he set about escaping from the imprisoning walls of the +gully-dungeon. Had it been anything else than a blind creek he would +have found an exit by following the dry bed, and thus have disappeared +entirely from this story. But it was fated otherwise. The one idea that +gained any sort of prominence in his mind was that he must climb the +side of the gully. + +He found a pool of clear rainwater in a little cavity in the dry bed of +the creek, and bathed his head in it and drank a little. Its refreshing +coolness acted on his jaded body like the sting of a spur on the flank +of a lazy horse. He crept cautiously in under the overhang of the bank +and searched about for a foothold. Such was not hard to find, and, in +less time than it takes to write of it, he was swinging up the side of +the bank, clinging to projecting ledges of rock with hands and feet that +seemed to possess all the prehensile quality of a monkey's. Once on the +top of the bank he burrowed into the mass of vegetation like some +primeval creature taking to earth, a pitiful caricature of the sane, +strong man he had been a few short hours before. Cautious and all as he +was, his flight was not absolutely noiseless, and so it came about that +presently Bryce heard him, and circled round the spot from which the +sound came like a wolf heading off a herd of deer. + +Cumshaw crashed through the bushes and emerged into the open a hundred +yards or so ahead of Bryce. The latter caught sight of him at the moment +of his emergence and called out to him to stop. + +"Cumshaw," he called. "Come here!" + +The other heard the call and caught his own name, but instead of +slackening he accelerated his pace. He did not look round; he was +convinced in his own warped mind that his pursuer was none other than +the late Mr. Bradby. Accordingly he swung along at such a rate that +Bryce soon dropped behind, breathless and dispirited. He sat down on a +convenient log and mopped his damp face with a large-sized handkerchief. +Presently his breathing became normal again, and his agitated heart +ceased fluttering like a caged bird. He fell to reviewing the position. +The more he thought of it, the less hopeless it appeared to be. His +unrecognisable and nameless antagonists had temporarily withdrawn from +the fight, whether to consolidate their forces and plan some new form of +attack, or because they had received a very salutary lesson, he could +not say. Also it did not worry him over much. His ideas were centred +mainly on Mr. Cumshaw. True, that gentleman had disappeared over the +horizon with every mark of unseemly haste, and already he must be well +advanced on whatever road he was taking. Not so very far away the car +awaited Bryce, and he was sure that, once he reached it, it would be +merely a matter of a day or so until he rediscovered Mr. Cumshaw. He +repeated the verb. "Re-discovered" struck a distinctive note. One could +not convey the same meaning with any form of the verb "to overtake;" Mr. +Cumshaw had disappeared, not simply gone on ahead. He chuckled softly at +his own quaint conceit, and at that his spirits began to rise again. + +Feeling now fully rested, he rose to his feet and swung out on the track +with that long slow stride which was all that remained of his athletic +form of the old New Guinea days. Of late years he had walked, when he +had walked at all, with the quick nervous step of the city-bred man, and +it heartened him immensely to know that he was recovering without any +effort of his volition the old easy pioneer stride. + +It is not within the scope of this tale to relate how Mr. Bryce at +length reached his car and set out on what he believed to be Abel +Cumshaw's trail. Suffice it to state that he reached his machine without +any untoward incident, the two gentlemen who had so rudely disturbed the +serenity of his nature having seemingly disappeared from the face of the +earth. Once he passed a drover and elicited from him that a man +answering Cumshaw's description had passed him on the road the previous +morning. Evidently then the missing man was keeping away from the towns, +taking instead a trail that would inevitably lead him further into the +bush. He was rather pleased at this. Abel Cumshaw in the city would be +as hard to find as the proverbial needle in a bundle of hay, but in the +bush it would be much easier to locate him, Bryce considered. So he +drove the car along at a low speed, keeping all the time a watchful eye +out for any signs of the truant. As he progressed he was surprised and +not a little pleased to find that his New Guinea woodcraft was coming +back to him by degrees. The joy of the chase was his, and he experienced +again the same keen and primitive emotions that had thrilled him in the +days when the elder Carstairs and he had trodden the unexplored wilds of +Papua. + + * * * * * + +He came upon Cumshaw very suddenly. The car was creeping through the +trees at a snail's pace--there was no clearly defined track in that part +of the bush, and Bryce was taking no unnecessary risks--when he caught +sight of a figure that might or might not be the missing Mr. Cumshaw. He +stopped the car at once and descended to the ground. As has already been +noted earlier in these memoirs, Mr. Bryce, when occasion required it, +for all his huge bulk, could move as agilely and noiselessly as that +pre-eminently silent animal, the domestic cat. He had been so keyed up +by the emotional stresses of the last few days that he threw himself +into the adventure with all the zest of a schoolboy just being +introduced into romance. The man was dodging through the trees a hundred +yards or so ahead, and there was something so furtive about his +movements that Bryce approached with more than his usual caution. + +The man halted and glanced swiftly around. Bryce flattened himself +against a handy tree, and fervently hoped that the shadow was thick +enough to conceal him. The other patently had no idea that he was being +followed, for, apparently quite satisfied with his hasty scrutiny, he +dropped on his knees and commenced scraping the earth away with the +point of a knife that had appeared in his hand with the magical +suddenness of a conjuring trick. As the man worked away Bryce peeped out +from his hiding-place and saw then that it was indeed Cumshaw. He +watched fascinated. His heart was thumping away like the piston of a +steam-engine, and some queer unnamed instinct told him that the chase +was drawing to a close. Cumshaw was digging up something of vital +importance; it might be the treasure itself or perhaps the key to it. +But why should Cumshaw have gone so stealthily to work unless--? "Unless +he is going to cut me out of it," said Bryce to himself. + +Abruptly the other straightened up and hugged something to his breast. +It was covered with black loam, and at the distance Bryce could not tell +what it was. He slipped stealthily from tree to tree until he had wormed +his noiseless way right up to Cumshaw. Then, seeing that he had his man +cut off should he attempt to escape, he stepped out into the open and +laid a kindly hand on the fugitive's shoulder. Cumshaw turned in a +flash, and, in the excitement of the moment, the earth-covered object +slipped out of his hands and fell on the grass at his feet. + +"Where have you been all this time?" Bryce asked jovially. + +Cumshaw stared at him in a puzzled way. His face at first had shown all +the symptoms of fear, but the moment Bryce spoke they faded out, to be +replaced by a very obvious air of relief. Yet there was nothing of +recognition in the man's eyes; they were full of a great blank wonder, +like the eyes of a child who takes its first look at the teeming life +beyond its doors. His forehead crinkled up as if he were trying to +recall something that had slipped his memory. + +"Who are you?" he said at length. "I ... I don't think I know you," and +he brushed his forehead with a weak, ineffective gesture of the hand. It +was then that Bryce noticed the matted, blood-stained condition of his +hair and the big purple bruise that disfigured his temple. His quick +mind guessed at what had happened, though, erroneously enough, he +concluded that Cumshaw had received the blows in an encounter with the +men who had been the original cause of the man's flight. + +"You'd better come with me, Cumshaw," he said in the same soothing tone +that he would have applied to a tired child. + +"I'm going home," said Cumshaw with weak stubbornness. "I don't want to +go with you." + +"I'll take you home," said Bryce. + +That he decided was the only thing he could do. Cumshaw was in no fit +state to continue the search for his lost valley, and Bryce realised +that it would not be safe to leave him uncared for. If he went home with +Cumshaw he would be throwing his pursuers off the track. That would help +him considerably. He had no fear that they would discover the valley +during his absence; their attack on him showed that they had come to the +end of their resources, and fancied that their only hope of touching any +of the spoils was by forcing the secret out of Bryce. Of course it was +quite on the cards that they would follow the car, but it was just as +likely that they would make no definite move until they had solved the +meaning of his change of plans. + +Cumshaw was still standing like a man in a dream. Bryce placed his hand +on the man's arm. + +"Come along with me," he said. "I'll see that you get safely home." + +He bent down quickly and picked up the loam-encrusted object that +Cumshaw had dropped in the first moment of the encounter, Cumshaw +followed his movements with troubled eyes, but did not interfere in any +way. Bryce could see that the thing was a bit of wood, and on one piece +of it, where the earth had been scraped off, there were letters +scratched. He thrust it into his pocket, meaning to examine it more +closely at his leisure. + +Cumshaw walked to the car with him. He yielded to the stronger will +without any show of resistance. All his own will-power seemed to have +departed, and he obeyed Bryce with a child-like faith. Once in the car +he slumped into the corner and closed his eyes. Bryce seized the +opportunity thus given him to steal another look at the wood he had +picked up. He scraped away what loam he could with his finger nail, and +soon was able to make out two complete words. + +"This'll have to wait," he said with a sigh, as he thrust it back into +his pocket. "This bit of wood's got your name on it, Mr. Abel Cumshaw, +and I'll bet all I ever owned that it's the key you've been hunting +for." + +He cranked up the car, and soon was speeding back to the high road. In +his corner Mr. Cumshaw slept. + +Ten minutes after they reached the main road another car swung out along +the Ararat road. There were three men in it, the chauffeur and two +passengers. One of the latter held his hand to a wounded shoulder, and +swore at the chauffeur every time the car jolted and sent a quiver of +pain through the wound. + +In course of time Bryce's car came to a little hamlet on the Geelong to +Colac road--a hamlet that must be nameless in this story. There he found +the Albert Cumshaw of this tale, delivered his father into his care and +told him all that had happened, suppressing only the episode of the +finding of the wood. He found Albert Cumshaw easier to deal with than he +had expected--as a matter of fact the younger man already knew much of +his father's story--and the result of the conversation was that the +search was held over, pending the elder Cumshaw's recovery. + +Bryce remained the night with the Cumshaws, saw that a doctor was +secured who would give skilled attention to the elder man, and then +early in the morning set out for home. The day was very warm, and the +cool breeze that presently sprang up from the ocean moved Bryce to motor +down to the coast. At the worst it was only a few miles out of his road. +At first he had no intention of making a stop at the heads, but the sea +as he came within sight of it looked so cool and inviting that he was +tempted to have a dip. He parked his car in the reserve, purchased a +bathing suit at the local store and ambled down to the beach. It was +only when he commenced to undress that he recollected that the wood was +still in his pocket, so with rare caution he thrust it under the sand, +quite satisfied that no one would dream of looking there. He had no idea +that his pursuers were so close behind him; he was merely taking +precautions against any casual tramp who might be tempted to run through +his pockets. + +Ten minutes later James Carstairs, explorer, gentleman and rolling +stone, limped into the picture, and the story of The Lost Valley entered +upon its penultimate phase. + + + + +PART III + +_THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE CYPHER. + + +"You may smoke if you like, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said graciously to our +visitor. + +I said nothing; instead I silently handed the man my cigar-case. He +selected a weed with a discriminating care that I felt cast an +unwarranted reflection on the quality of the cigars I smoked. I watched +him in silence while he cut off the end with a neat, precise stroke of +his penknife, lit the cigar and blew a cloud of blue smoke out of his +mouth. All the time I was staring at him I could feel Moira's eyes on +me, and I knew that she was wondering what made me so boorish and +morose. Or, perhaps, with a woman's keen instinct for ferreting out the +things she shouldn't know anything about, she guessed just what was the +matter. To tell the truth I was just beginning to feel a little jealous. +Frankly I considered that she was paying too much attention to Mr. +Albert Cumshaw, and I hadn't two sharp eyes without seeing that he +openly admired her. Of course I had turned down her overtures of +reconciliation, and I think I told her plainly enough that there was no +possibility of my falling in love with her again; but, if all that were +perfectly true, I shouldn't have been jealous because the two of them +took to making eyes at each other. The fact remained that I was a little +hurt by what I saw, and I had to recognise, even though I ran counter to +the promptings of my common-sense, that I wasn't as indifferent to her +as I would have myself believe. + +I brought myself back with a jerk to the matter in hand. + +"What do you propose doing about the matter?" I asked of Cumshaw. + +He did not reply immediately. His right little finger flipped the ash +from off the end of his cigar, and then the dark curly head lifted and +the glowing eyes looked straight into mine. + +"What do I propose doing!" he repeated. "Well, if it was left to me," he +said, after a contemplative pause, "I'd say the treasure's there, and +the sooner we go after it the better. We know already that there's other +people on the job--they killed Mr. Bryce and they made a mess of the +Dad--and it's all right thinking, as Mr. Bryce did, that they've come to +the end of their tether and are waiting for us to set the pace for them. +There's been so many miracles in this play already that it doesn't do to +risk the chance of any more. We've got no absolute guarantee that they +won't stumble on the key to everything while we're wasting time here. +You say you've got a cypher Mr. Bryce left you. Well, that cypher +contains the position of the treasure; there's no doubt about that in my +mind. Bradby carved it on the wood--neither he nor the Dad had any paper +with them at the time--and from what I've heard of the man I'm confident +that it's the kind of thing he would do. Then when Mr. Bryce got hold of +it he burnt the wood and threw what was on it into a sort of cryptogram. +One way and another he was pretty cautious when the fit took him, though +I must say that when it was a question of his own life he wasn't so +particular. It boils down to this. The Dad's out of the game for good +and we've got to use our own wits. Within limits we've got a fair idea +of the position of the valley, and, once we've solved the cypher, we'll +probably have something more definite to go on." + +"That," I remarked, "is supposing we do solve it. As far as I can see +it's too weird for anything." + +"Uncle," said Moira severely, "wouldn't have written it if he didn't +think you could solve it. That's why he made it easy." + +"If you think it's easy," I retorted, "take it yourself and see what you +can make of it." + +"That's a good idea," Cumshaw cut in, turning my own shaft against +myself. "Suppose we all have a shot at it and see what we can make of +it. We might get it all out and again we mightn't. When we get as far as +we can we'll all pool our efforts, and maybe we'll make something out of +it that way." + +"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said, and darted a glance +of triumph at me. It said as plainly as so many words that here was a +champion for her, a man who would defend her against the whole world. Of +course I ignored it. What man would do anything else under the +circumstances? But there are some things, of which this was one, that +the more one ignores them the more insistent as to their presence do +they become. So, though I affected not to see Moira's little glance of +triumph, it photographed itself upon my mind's eye and completely +spoiled the evening for me. + +"We'll get Jim here to type out a copy for you before you go, Mr. +Cumshaw," she promised, "and you can see what you can make of it." + +"Thanks," said the young man briefly. I had expected him to make a +bigger mouthful of it than that, and I thought it odd that he did not. +It struck me too as queer that he did not ask for a look at the cypher; +an ordinary man would have known no peace until he had examined it in +all its baffling details. As I was to learn, Mr. Cumshaw was no ordinary +man, and, for a young chap of his age, had his emotions and inclinations +under rather remarkable control. + +I stood up. "If you want that cypher," I said, "I'll type it out now, +and you can study it on the way home if you wish." + +"It's very kind of you," Cumshaw murmured with a well-bred lack of +enthusiasm. + +"I think," said Moira, "that we'd all better adjourn to the study. I +don't like to think of anyone being in there alone, especially at night. +You see," she explained to Cumshaw, "the room hasn't been used since +Uncle's death. He was killed in that very room ... in front of my eyes." + +"I understand," said Cumshaw softly, and he rose to his feet and held +the door open for Moira to pass out. She led the way to the study and +unlocked the door. It had been a fad of hers ever since the tragedy to +keep the room sealed, and, as I saw no reason for gainsaying her, I had +never interfered. She switched on the light and we stood for a moment on +the threshold, dazzled by the unaccustomed radiance. Nothing in the +place had been touched--we had not disturbed anything during our search +for Bryce's papers--and, save for the absence of some of the actors in +the scene, it might have been the very night of the tragedy itself. + +I broke the spell by walking into the room and proceeding to take the +cover off the typewriter. The machine had not been used since its owner +had died. Despite the manner in which I had lied to Bryce, I knew a +thing or two about typewriters. As a matter of fact I transcribed the +greater part of my father's three volumes of Solomon Island Ethnology on +just such another machine. I sat down at the table and drew from my +pocket the letter and the cypher, both of which I had thrust out of +sight when Albert Cumshaw had been announced that afternoon. + +"There's the cypher," I said, and I spread the sheet out on the table. + +Cumshaw bent over it and read out aloud from beginning to end. + +"2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@ 3 @75 £994 1/4;£ 5@3 48½8;? ½7; ¼43 8; & 8;3 +--3¼½743 ½3:3; "335 3¼½5.5@3; "¼/3 £843/5 ;945@¾£4¼2 ¼;95@34 &8;3 ¼5 +48?@5 ¼;?&3½ 59 5@3 043:897½ 9;3¾3)53;£8;? " 94 523&:3 "335.£8? 5@3;," +he said, stumbling every now and then at the unfamiliar expressions. + +"What do you make of it?" I asked. + +He looked up at me with just the flicker of a smile about the corners of +his mouth. "I can't say just yet," he replied. "All these things take +time. You can't solve them in an instant." + +"I thought we might," I said, with just the least hint of offensiveness +in my tone. I don't know whether or not he noticed it, but if he did he +was gentleman enough to ignore it. + +"All right," I ran on, "I'll type this out if one of you'll read it to +me. Go slowly, as I don't want to have any mistakes. It's bad enough to +have to do it once without having to do it again." + +"I'll read it," Cumshaw volunteered. I nodded to show my agreement. I +then threaded the paper through and said, "I'm ready." + +He began to read it very slowly and carefully, and I typed away as he +spoke. I had just got the first four or five combinations down when +Moira interrupted me. + +"I knew you'd make a mess of it," she said coldly. "I told you so at the +beginning." As a matter of fact she had said no such thing, but I let it +pass. + +"What's wrong?" I queried, looking up at her. + +"I've been watching you," said she, "and you haven't depressed your +figure lever once. You must have it all wrong. It'll just be simple +letters instead of the signs." + +I had been typing all the time with my eyes on the keyboard, and I +hadn't once glanced at the finished work. Now I looked at it I saw that +she was right. I had been typing letters all along when I should have +been printing figures. And then something queer about the letters struck +me. My heart gave a jump. + +"Go on," I said huskily to Cumshaw. "Give me a few more." + +He read out two or three more combinations and then I leaned back in the +chair. "Look," I said triumphantly, "look what I've done!" + +Two heads bobbed down over my work, stared at it for a moment, and then +two pairs of eyes smiled at me. + +"You've solved it by accident," said Cumshaw. + +"I'm sorry for what I said," Moira said simply. + +"It's just the simplest cypher in existence," I said. "You've got a +keyboard with letters and figures on it. When you want letters you type +straight out, and when you want figures you just depress the lever. Now +look at this. That 5 is on the same key as T, @ is on H's key, 3 means +E, and so on. When Bryce worked it out he simply pressed down the figure +lever and left it down, and now to reverse the process all we've got to +do is to hit the keys these signs are on and leave the lever alone. +Simple, isn't it?" + +"Very," said Cumshaw. + +"Get it all out, Jim, quick!" said Moira with feminine impatience. + +I did. I pressed 2 and I got W, and so on all along the keyboard, and +when I had finished I pulled the sheet out and handed it to them. "Read +it out, Moira," I said. "It's your turn." + +"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'" + +"If it hadn't been for you," said Cumshaw, "we wouldn't have found it. I +congratulate you," and he held out his hand to me. + +"Rubbish!" I said. "It was all a lucky accident." But all the same I +took the proffered hand. + +"We can go right on with it now," Moira cried joyously. "There's nothing +to stop us." + +"Only that we've got to find the valley yet," said Cumshaw gloomily. "My +father made several attempts but couldn't locate it." + +"You've got to bear in mind," I told them, "that we've got some +information your father hadn't, strange though it seems." + +"And that?" Cumshaw queried quickly. + +"We're looking for a valley that's got a lone tree overlooking it. Your +father didn't seem to be aware of that." + +Cumshaw seized the paper and read it through quickly. "By the Lord +Harry, you're right, Carstairs! That's one piece of information he +didn't have. If he had known that when he went after the gold himself +he'd have got it." + +"Maybe he would," I said doubtfully. + +"You don't seem too sure of it, Carstairs," Cumshaw remarked, with a +sidelong glance at Moira. + +"No more I am," I told him. "I don't like our chances either." + +"But," he protested with a puzzled indrawing of his eyebrows, "as far as +we're concerned it's as easy as falling off a log." + +"Just as easy," I agreed, "providing our friends the enemy don't +interfere. They don't seem to be the kind of men who rest on their oars, +that is if we can judge anything from their past exploits." + +"You're right there, Carstairs," Cumshaw said. "I never gave them a +thought, but I see now that they're likely to prove a pretty active +menace to our safety." + +"That," I said, turning to Moira, "cuts out all possibility of your +coming with us. You can't be running into danger." + +"Can't I just," she said with an assertive toss of her head, "and, +whether I can or not, I'm going," she finished. + +I looked at Cumshaw. I could not tell from his expression whether he was +pleased or sorry. His face was as devoid of emotion as that of a china +doll. + +"What do you think about it?" I asked him straight out. + +He glanced at me in his turn with a curious baffling light in his dark +eyes, and I felt as if he had stripped my soul bare of all pretences and +was reading my thoughts in all their nakedness. + +"I should think," he said at length with an air of absolute +impartiality, "that Miss Drummond is the mistress of her own actions and +neither you nor I have any right to dictate what she is to do." + +"Have it your own way then," I said, with difficulty suppressing my +rising anger. "But if anything goes wrong remember that I warned you +beforehand." + +"I'll remember that," Moira said, and she favored Cumshaw with a little +smile of gratitude. She never smiled at me like that, not even in those +far-away days when we were all the world to each other or thought we +were. Which in the end amounts to much the same thing. + +"Well, if you don't mind," said Cumshaw, breaking an awkward silence, +"I'll go home now and think matters over. And then to-morrow we'll +decide what to do." + +"Home?" I echoed. "I thought----" And then I stopped. + +"I'm staying in town," he said with a smile. "That's what I meant when I +said home." + +"In that case," I said, "you'll be handy whenever we want you. You'd +better leave your address in case we want you in a hurry." + +He scribbled his address--a leading city hotel--on a blank card and +handed it to me. I glanced at it and then thrust it into my pocket. When +I looked up again he was holding Moira's hand in his, just a trifle +longer than convention demanded I thought, and saying something to her +that I did not catch. She smiled in return, a dazzling smile, and said +quite distinctly, "Please call whenever you feel inclined. There is no +need for us to stand on ceremony with each other now we're partners." + +I saw him to the door. At the threshold he turned and spoke with one +foot on the step and the other on the ground, taking up that attitude of +unaffected ease that gives an air of friendliness to even the most +formal conversation. + +"I'm rather pleased I met you, Carstairs," he said. "In one way and +another I've heard a lot about you, and I think you've got the kind of +level head we'll need before we've seen this business through." + +"Thank you," I replied. I was nearly going to say 'Soft words butter no +parsnips,' but my common-sense came to my aid just in time to prevent me +making a fool of myself. He held out his hand, and I took it in the +spirit in which he had offered it to me. Nevertheless I was absurdly +jealous of the man, though Heaven knows I hadn't the least reason to be. +I could see with half an eye that he had made a good impression on +Moira, and the way she had spoken to him, especially that last remark of +hers, showed me that she was egging him on. It didn't matter one single +solitary damn to me. I had told her clearly and definitely that we were +business partners and that love was altogether out of the question. Yet +here was I, the moment a potential rival appeared on the scene, behaving +for all the world like a spoilt child. And, like a spoilt child, for my +own good I needed someone to bring me sharply and suddenly to my +bearings. + +Cumshaw bade me a cheerful good-night. I saw his lithe figure swing +along through the sub-tropical darkness of a moonless summer night. Then +the latch on the gate clicked with the ringing sound of metal striking +against metal. I closed the door and went inside. + +Moira was standing in the study just as I had left her, standing as +motionless and devoid of life as a statue of carven stone. I don't think +she heard me at first. + +"Well," I said conversationally, "how is it now?" + +She turned at the sound of my voice and faced me squarely. I could see +that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and something inside of me +moved me with a sudden impulse to go up to her. I placed my hands on her +shoulders and was amazed to find how unsteady they were. They trembled, +my hands trembled! And yet they used to tell me in the old Island days +that I hadn't a nerve in my body. + +I was quite prepared for anything except what really happened. I could +feel a sort of tension in the atmosphere, and I expected her to do +something theatrical. But she didn't. She backed away from me, but she +didn't go far. The table was behind her. + +I don't know how long we stood looking at each other. It seemed a +lifetime to me, and the silence was the sort that a man feels it +sacrilege to break. + +"You make it very hard for me, Jim," Moira said calmly. The tears were +still in her eyes, but her voice was under excellent control. It didn't +vibrate a note. She looked at me as she spoke, looked me straight in the +eyes, and I think it was then that I began to realise what an ass I had +been making of myself. + +"How do I make it hard?" I asked. My voice was curiously low, almost +husky in fact. I rather think she noticed it and took heart therefrom. A +man is very easy to handle when he is not quite sure of himself. + +"I've got to pretend," she said in answer to my question. "Pretend that +you are nothing to me when----" + +She stopped short. It seemed almost as if she regretted that she had +said so much. + +"Go on," I urged. + +"There's not much to say," she continued. "I just want to tell you, to +tell you in such a way that you'll believe me, that if I've treated you +shamefully I've suffered for it. I can't make any reparation for it; you +were quite right in saying that it is too late now to alter things. I +just want you to know that I'm sorry. I can't say much more than that, +though I don't want to take any credit for it now, seeing that it's been +practically forced out of me." + +I remembered the way she had been standing when I came in, the tears in +her eyes, and the way she had backed out of my reach the moment I put my +hands on her shoulders. It would have been so easy for her to have done +the other thing, but she hadn't, and I admired her all the more for it. +She might easily have captured me in the first flush of emotion, but she +had instead given me time to think and a chance to get away if I wanted +to. There was something in her attitude that appealed to my sense of +fair play and at the same time prevented me from in any way +misinterpreting her last remark. + +"Moira," I said, "were you crying when I came in just now?" + +Her lip trembled a little as she asked, "Why do you want to know?" + +"Because," I said slowly, "I've solved one riddle already to-night, and +I've a mind to solve another before I go to bed." + +"I was crying," she admitted, "only I didn't mean you to see." + +"And why was that?" + +"I thought you might imagine I was just doing it." + +I knew what she meant; there was no need for her to explain further. She +didn't want to influence me in any way; whatever I did must be done of +my own free will. + +"I'm beginning to understand," I said slowly. + +"Then you'll forgive?" she said quickly, and one hand went up to her +throat as if she were choking. + +I nodded and impulsively she held out her hand to me. I did not take it, +and she half-turned so that I would not see what was in her eyes. + +"Can't we even be friends?" she said, with a queer little catch in her +words. + +Something snapped in my head at that, and the words I had been holding +back all the evening came to my lips in a rush of speech. + +"I didn't mean you to take it that way," I said desperately. "I wouldn't +shake hands because ... that's not what I want. It's too stand-offish. +I'm going to do more than forgive, and we're going to me more than +friends, if you still want me." + +"You know I want you," she said softly with her head bowed shyly and the +blushes rising in her cheeks. + +I took her in my arms and kissed her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY. + + +Once we had definitely fixed the date of our departure we lost no time +in making ready. As the days went by I began to see more and more +clearly that it was just as well I had thrown in my lot with Moira and +young Cumshaw. Neither of them had the least idea of organisation, and +they seemed to think that things just happened of their own accord. +Moira couldn't see anything else but the glamor and romance of the +adventure, and I found that, for all his cleverness, Albert Cumshaw did +not know what was essential to the expedition and what wasn't. + +"We can't start off like a picnic party," I said to them on one +occasion, "and just wander on until we come to a likely spot. We've got +to have everything planned out right down to the last box of matches and +the last cartridge." + +Cumshaw drew a deep breath. "Cartridges!" he said, "Are you talking +figuratively?" + +"No," I answered. "I'm speaking literally. It might yet be the case of +the last cartridge. You must remember that, even if we get the gold and +come back here in safety, we're still not out of the wood. We're not +safe until our friends the enemy are removed from our paths for ever." + +"You mean that they must be killed?" Moira demanded. + +"I don't mean anything of the kind," I answered. "As a matter of fact +I've got a perfect horror of killing people. It makes such a mess, and +I'm naturally a rather tidy person." + +Cumshaw laughed softly, but Moira bit her lip, though she made no reply +to what I had said. + +"Now, while we're talking about it," I ran on, "I just want to impress +on you the fact that we aren't going off into the bush--not the kind of +bush that you read about in books, where it's all scrub and myall blacks +and things like that. Most of the time we'll be within coo-ee of +civilisation. Most of Western Victoria's pretty well settled, and it's +just the luck of the game and the formation of the country that this +valley's remained so long hidden away. We'll be near enough to people +all the time to be noticeable if we do anything remarkable. We've got to +go to work so that we'll attract as little attention as possible. We'll +want food, enough for several weeks, I suppose, and we've got to get it +and take it with us, and do it all in such a way that nobody's going to +wonder what we're after. Another thing that that reminds me of. Miss +Drummond here had better keep out of sight as long as she can. We two +can manage to escape observation, but people always want to know what a +woman's doing in it when there's anything suspicious happening." + +"If you mean by that that you think I can be turned back at the last +moment, you're making a mistake," Moira informed me. + +"I don't mean that," I said calmly, "but I want to take every precaution +that I can. I'm in charge of this expedition, elected by three votes to +nothing, and I'm going to run things the way I think best. It mightn't +be the best way in the end, but that's quite another matter. I haven't +wandered across the world from Yokohama to the White Nile and from the +Klondyke to the Solomons without knowing how to organise an expedition." + +"You're right there," Cumshaw acknowledged. "You're the only one amongst +us who's had practical experience. In future what you say goes." + +"That's the spirit," I said briskly. "What have you to say, Moira?" + +"You know best," she answered. "As long as you don't leave me out +altogether I'll agree to anything, but I want to take my share of the +risk too." + +"Apparently," I remarked, "everyone's afraid that everybody else'll have +the lion's share of the fighting. Well, if I can fix it, there'll not be +any fighting at all." + +"What do you mean?" Cumshaw asked interestedly. + +"That's nothing to do with the situation at present," I informed him. +"You'll all see when the time's ripe. Now what's next?" + +"There's nothing more that I know of," Cumshaw volunteered. + +"And you, Moira?" + +"I think I've got everything fixed," she answered. + +"That means we can start at the end of the week," I said with +satisfaction. "It looks as if fortune's turning our way at last." + +The three of us laughed together, and Cumshaw I think it was who said, +"Success to the expedition!" It sounded very nice, and we were all so +sure that things were going to turn out well. But there was one little +point that all of us had overlooked, and that was destined in one way +and another to upset our plans to a remarkable extent. + +Profiting by Bryce's experience, I decided to leave the car at home, as +I realised that we would have to abandon it sooner or later, and nothing +is so apt to set foolish people talking as an apparently ownerless car. +I resolved on making our headquarters at the spot where by all accounts +the unlamented Mr. Bradby had met his death. For one thing all the later +developments of the chase had centred round that one spot, and Bryce +himself had gone there unhesitatingly by the shortest and most direct +route he knew of. I couldn't see at the time where I could find a better +jumping-off place. To say the least it was a fixed point from which to +start exploring, and we had the comforting knowledge, though it might +not be of any practical use to us, that the valley itself was within two +or three days' march. With it as the centre we would have to cast a +circle with a radius of anything up to fifty miles, and then somewhere +within the enclosed area we might, or might not, find the elusive vale +that held the treasure. + +We approached the rendezvous by widely divergent routes. It was a rather +extravagant precaution, no doubt, but then I wasn't taking any risks +that I could possibly avoid. The murderous gentlemen who were quite +certainly on our track were a power to be reckoned with, and at the same +time we had to keep our eyes open for the law itself. It was all right +for Bryce to say that he was playing within the law--quite possibly he +was--but I had no idea of paying any percentage to the Crown. I was +rather hazy on the matter myself, though I seemed to have heard +somewhere or other that the Government always gobbled a big share of the +loot in the case of treasure trove. At any rate the quieter we kept the +expedition the less likelihood there was of us having to pay anything at +all. + +Moira was to travel with me from Murtoa, and Cumshaw decided to train as +far as Landsborough--the recently opened Crowlands to Navarre railway +would take him that far--and then do the rest across the hills on foot. +His was the longer and more difficult route, and I had intended at first +to take it myself, for reasons that have nothing at all to do with this +tale; but he was so insistent, and at one stage threatened so much +unpleasantness, that I gave into him, if only for the sake of peace. +Before we started I had another talk with Moira and endeavored to +dissuade her from accompanying us, but she very calmly told me that she +had additional reasons now for going with us. There was sure to be +trouble, she admitted that much; but then wasn't her place by my side, +more especially if things weren't all they should be? Her logic left +much to be desired, but it had the one merit of achieving its object. It +was devastating; it completely crushed all my arguments and left me +without a leg to stand on. + +The late March of the year 1919 saw the three of us at the rendezvous, +which we had reached without incident of any sort. Contrary to our +expectations the other party had not been sighted, and the outlook was +certainly auspicious. For all that I felt worried. Everything was going +along too swimmingly, and I had a queer feeling that we would meet with +trouble very shortly, if only to even things up. Ease and success can +only be won after much expenditure of blood and tears; there is not a +thing in life worth trying for that can be bought with a minimum of +effort. The greater the prize, the greater the price one must pay; +always one pays, with health, with limbs, sometimes with life itself. + +During the time Moira and I had been travelling together I had slept of +a night with one eye more or less open, and the strain of being +constantly on the alert was just beginning to tell on me. As a +consequence I was very pleased when Cumshaw suggested that we should +take watch and watch about. I agreed, with the reservation that I must +always be on guard for the dawn-watch. I didn't explain why I was so +anxious to take that particular watch, and, though I noticed Moira +looking curiously at me, she made no remark. I knew from experience that +men are at their sleepiest about four o'clock in the morning, and an +attack can be successfully launched then that would fail at any other +hour of the day or night. I had yet to test Cumshaw on active service, +so I claimed the four o'clock stretch for my own. It doesn't hurt to be +careful; I've never yet met anyone who was sorry he had taken +precautions. + +We camped within a hundred yards of the creek, and after supper Cumshaw +and I sprawled on the grass and talked. Moira had retired to an +improvised tent we had fashioned for her, and, as it was just out of +earshot, we were free to speak our thoughts. I had not seen Cumshaw for +the better part of two weeks--he had started from his own place and come +right on from there without calling on me again--and I hoped that he +might have some further news for me. I asked him casually how his father +was getting on. + +"Right enough," he said, blowing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. +"Some days you wouldn't think there was a thing wrong with him. He'll +talk pretty lucidly at times, but it isn't anything that can be of any +use to us. He doesn't seem to have taken much notice of the position of +the valley, he apparently thought at the time that it would be very +simple to pick it up again, and I fancy that Bradby must have confirmed +him in that view. He couldn't have taken into account the way they had +twisted about in the mountains. It's the simplest thing in the world to +lose yourself here, the more so if you're confident you know your way." + +"You've about struck it there," I said. "I just want to give you a +little piece of advice, and I hope you won't take it amiss. I don't want +to talk about this expedition any more than I can help for two reasons. +One's this: I don't wish to cause Miss Drummond any more uneasiness than +is absolutely necessary. You know as well as I do that there's a big +chance of the lot of us being wiped out just about the time we get +within sight of the end. I wouldn't be surprised if they let us walk +into a trap and finished us at their leisure. As for the other +reason--well, it's never safe to say that you're alone anywhere. If we +raise our voices above whispers here we might be giving away valuable +information. So just let us keep watch on our tongues. More hopes have +been ruined and more chances of success spoilt by gabbling tongues than +by any other dozen causes all rolled together." + +"I can quite understand that," Cumshaw said, between puffs at his pipe. +It was one of those neat little affairs with a round bowl, a +spick-and-span pipe that had burnt an even color and that shone as +brightly as the day he bought it. My pipe was a sorrier article; it was +battered and blackened, and one side of the bowl was down beneath the +level of the other, showing that it had been lighted oftener with a +blazing brand than with the orthodox matches. In a way it was like its +owner; it had been tested by fire and had survived the test. If I were +philosophical--but then I wasn't, and that's about all there is to it. + +"I didn't go to Landsborough," Cumshaw said after a pause. "I missed my +train at Ararat, and so I came on to Great Western. It's much the +shorter way. I wish you had known of it before." + +"I'm all the better pleased you came that way," I told him. "It will +help to disorganise the chase." + +He bent over, picked up a live coal in his bare fingers and applied it +to his pipe before replying. + +"I rather think," he said slowly, "that it will have just the opposite +effect." + +"You can't have any nerves in those fingertips of yours," I said. "Why +will it?" + +"I don't seem to have any, do I? I think I saw one of the men at Great +Western." + +"You don't know them," I said. "How could you?" + +"Mr. Bryce described them in his letter," Cumshaw answered. "This man +fitted the description of one of them, a dark sort of chap." + +"Spanish type?" I queried. + +Cumshaw nodded. "I wonder why it is," he ran on, "that we're always more +suspicious of that sort of man than, say, a fair type?" + +"Relic of the Armada, I suppose," I suggested. "Tell me all about the +man you saw." + +"I was coming along the roadside," Cumshaw began, "past one of the +vineyards, when I noticed a man working close at hand. I was just going +to pass by when it struck me that he was the only person about. I +thought that rather queer and I gave him a second look. Then I saw that +he wasn't digging, as I had thought at first, but that he was scratching +aimlessly at the ground. One of those queer feelings that seem +altogether unrelated to fact crept over me. Call it second sight or any +other fancy name you please, the fact remains that I suddenly knew--not +thought, mind you; I knew--that he did not want me to notice him and +that he was pretending to be one of the workmen, just so that I would +pass him by without more than a cursory glance. When I came to think it +over afterwards, I remembered that it struck me when first I saw him +that he was the only man I had seen in the vineyards for miles. Of +course I had that idea in my mind when I looked at him the second time. +That doesn't explain how I understood that I was the very man he did not +want to see. He had his head bent down naturally, his hat well drawn +over his face, and he went on scratching and scraping as if his very +life depended on the energy with which he worked. I didn't get more than +a passing glimpse of him, and that wasn't too good--you can't go over to +a man and pull off his hat just because he looks suspicious--but I'd +swear on a stack of Bibles that he's one of the men we'll have to deal +with." + +"Perhaps so," I said. "At any rate I'm not going to allow chance workers +in the fields to rob me of my night's rest." + +"No more am I," assented Cumshaw. "So you don't think there's any +likelihood----." + +"I don't think anything at all," I cut in. "I take proper precautions, +that's all." + +He made no comment on my unceremonious interruption, but the strange +half-smile he gave me showed that he realised in part at least how his +story had affected me. As a matter of fact I was more perturbed than I +cared to admit. I had been thinking things over all day, and it had just +occurred to me that, seeing we had heard nothing of them since Bryce's +death, it was quite possible that they were even now following up the +false clue that he had laid for them, and which one of them had got away +with the night of the burglary. If that were so, why had they come back +and killed Bryce? It was a curious enough situation, and the more I +thought about it the more I became convinced that I was right. Our +immunity so far was due solely to the fact that the others were well +occupied with the faked plan they had stolen on that memorable evening. +Now on top of that Albert Cumshaw must come with this circumstantial +story of his and upset all my deductions. The strange part of it was, +though my reason told me that he had been a victim of his own brilliant +imagination, part of my mind--that part that believed in second sight +and banshees and were-wolves, and stuff of that sort--told me that he +was not so very much wrong after all. + +"I'll get to sleep," he said, interrupting the train of my thoughts. +"I'll be fresh when my turn comes for guard." + +"Tell me," I said, for the matter had been puzzling me all night, "where +did you learn to light your pipe with red-hot coals?" + +"Oh, that," he said with a laugh. "I saw you doing it earlier in the +evening, and I made up my mind that what you did I could do." + +"Then it must have burnt you." + +"Horribly," he said with a grimace. "Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE PROMISED LAND. + + +"This," I remarked, "is the sort of country Adam Lindsay Gordon would +have loved. No man but he could do justice to it." + +"We've been out seven days," said Cumshaw, "we've travelled God knows +how many miles, we've climbed up a Hades of a lot of mountains, and I +don't think there's a blind creek for twenty miles that we haven't +followed to the end and back again, and at the end of it all we're no +nearer the Valley than we were when we started. Gordon might have made +an epic out of it, but I'm hanged if I'm poet enough to appreciate the +country or philosopher enough to ignore the sheer physical discomforts +of the journey." + +"If you'd been through the things I've been through," I asserted, "if +you'd been in New Guinea when there was a gold-strike on and had to +climb hundreds of feet up a straight cliff to get to the fields, hanging +on all the time to creepers as thick as your wrist, you'd think this was +just Paradise. If you'd been with me in the sweltering Solomon Island +jungle, where every breath you took made the perspiration stand out on +your forehead in big beads, or up in the Klondyke when it was fifty +below and a man's own breath turned into ice about his mouth, you'd know +what life really meant. Here you're in the Garden of Victoria; you see +sights that knock some of the beauty spots of the world into a cocked +hat, and all you can do is growl at the country. You can't expect to go +up and down the mountain side in a lift or anything of the sort." + +"It's all very well for you to talk like that," he objected. "You're +used to this kind of life; we're not. That makes all the difference." + +"So it seems," I said. "But I haven't the slightest intention of giving +in yet. As a matter of fact I rather think we've been a little too sure +that we were on the right track. We haven't been as careful as we might. +We've gone along blindly." + +"What do you mean?" he demanded. + +"Just this. We've been so infernally confident that we only had to find +a clump of wattle and a lone tree, and we were there. Now that lone tree +must be somewhere on the east side of the valley, and, despite the fact +that it's on high ground, it's so hidden that we wouldn't see it until +we were almost on top of it. It might be perfectly visible from inside +the valley, and at the same time be hidden from the outside by another +hill. As for the wattle, has it ever struck you that wattle only begins +to spring into bloom about the end of August? It's almost April now, and +you wouldn't find anything but just a mass of green bushes." + +"If there was a valley, which same I'm beginning to doubt," Cumshaw said +doggedly, "we'd have found it before this." + +"I don't know what Miss Drummond is cooking for our tea," I remarked +irrelevantly, "but it smells good." + +"If you think you can put me off that way," Cumshaw said, "you're mighty +mistaken. I'm tired of it all, and for two pins----" + +"You know very well," I cut in, "that I haven't one pin, let alone two." + +"You apparently don't understand that I'm perfectly serious." + +"Yes, I do. I'm serious too. I'm quite satisfied that we haven't been +going about things in the right way. We've made mistakes, and it's up to +us to find out what those mistakes are and go over the ground again." + +"I'll give it another week," said Cumshaw, "and if we haven't found +anything by then we might as well retire, for you can bet your sweet +life we never will." + +I didn't answer him immediately. I was sprawling on the grass, on my +back, with my eyes turned to the west, and something in the color of the +sky surrounding the setting sun caught and held my attention. Curiously +enough it made me think of Gordon and "The Sick Stockrider"--it must +have been floating through my mind when I began to talk--and it needed +very little effort of imagination to see-- + + The deep blue skies wax dusky and the tall green trees grow dim, + And the sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swim, + And on the very sun's face weave their pall, + +but there were no blue skies or green trees. The heavens were just a +dull slate-grey with streaks of smoke-colored cloud scurrying across +from the west, and the trees that might have been green in a better +light were black and gaunt, like weird spectres which had taken on wild +shapes and unorthodox hues. There was just the slightest suggestion of +chill in the atmosphere, and that, combined with the scurrying clouds, +made me study the sky with growing anxiety. + +"If that's not a storm brewing," I said, pointing skywards, "I'm +anything you like to call me." + +Cumshaw cocked one eye in the direction indicated. "It does look like +it," he said lazily, after a prolonged study of the sky. + +I looked him up and down as best I could. One can't survey a man too +well when lying on one's back; but something in the glance and more that +I gave him, struck him as being so odd that he sat up and stared at me. +I made no movement. + +"Well?" he queried at length. + +"It's just the other way round," I said in my most aggravating tone. + +He looked at the sky again at that, and then turned his dark eyes on me. +"I can see it's going to be a fine old storm," he said, "but I don't +understand why you're worrying about it." + +"I'm not," I said a trifle untruthfully. I was worrying, but not as much +as he seemed to think. Ordinarily I would have told him just what I +fancied was wrong, but this time I didn't fancy anything. For all I +could say to the contrary there was just an ordinary April storm brewing +over across the hills, and presently the thunder would begin, and then +the lightning, and after that the rain; still I felt like a man who is +on the verge of a great discovery, on the brink of finding that +something that means all the difference in the world between success and +failure. Even now when I come to consider calmly the emotions of that +hour I cannot say that what I have just written down is a true +description of my feelings and thoughts. What happened later that same +night has had its effect on my memory and has mixed itself inextricably +with my earlier recollections. All this about my fancying that the storm +meant more than a storm usually means may be due to the fact that, but +for it, the momentous event itself would never have occurred. + +I do know that I was a little doubtful about the security of the +improvised tent that sheltered Moira, and I think I must have showed a +little of that anxiety in my face. That perhaps was what struck Cumshaw +and led him to make the remark that he did. + +Presently Moira called us to tea, and we hauled ourselves up from the +grass and went over to her. The fire was burning up brightly and threw +the tent and the surrounding trees into bold relief. It made the sky +look even darker and more threatening than before. The scurrying clouds +had all passed away by now, but in their train came thicker and heavier +ones, big black things that rolled slowly across the evening sky with +the heavy implacability of Fate. They moved like the advancing vanguard +of a wild army of infamy, and soon had shut out altogether the dying +light of day and the growing radiance of the silver stars. The sudden +chill of thirty minutes previously had passed like a swift breath of +wind into the limbo of lost and forgotten things, and in its place had +grown a deadly hot oppressiveness that somehow reminded me of the +sweltering dampness of those Gaudalcanar forests I had so recently +described to Cumshaw. It filled us with something of its own torpor, so +much so that we ate languidly, and when we spoke at all we spoke in +monosyllables. + +The storm broke almost without warning. There was just one low +premonitory growl of thunder, the sky was split by a yellow sword of +lightning, and then the rain came pouring down in the way that can be +best described as the bursting of the flood-gates of heaven. At that our +torpor vanished and we made an unceremonious rush for the poor shelter +afforded by the tent, bringing with us what was left of our meal. The +tent had not been constructed with a view to holding more than one; at +its poor best it was but a rough shelter from the night dew. We had +never intended it to keep out the rain; it had not entered our heads as +even a remote possibility. I, perhaps, as the only one of the three who +had had any practical experience of out-door life, should have kept just +such a chance in mind. The fact remains that I overlooked it, and I +can't say that then or at any other time was I sorry for my +miscalculation. + +I had lived so long in the tropics that the rain that came seemed to me +the veriest drizzle, but the others had their own opinion, as I learnt +the moment I said what I thought. Cumshaw remarked that it was the devil +of a downpour, and Moira expressed her idea in less forcible though more +polite terms. It was no use my saying that if I were in Port Moresby or +Samarai the rain would have gone through the thin fabric of the tent +like a rifle bullet through butter-cloth. They pointed out with equal +truth that the present rain was dribbling through even as it was, and +that a quarter of an hour more would see us saturated. + +Whether we would or not must remain a mystery. No doubt we would have +found out sooner or later had it not come on to blow. The thunder had +ceased and the lightning flashed less frequently, now that the rain had +set in, but the wind began to rise, and almost on the last clap of +thunder I felt the wall of the tent shiver under the impact of the +blast. It occurred to me in one of those flashes of memory that we +sometimes have in moments of tension that we had not troubled about +running up guy-ropes, and there was nothing now to hold the tent if the +wind caught it squarely. Scarcely had the thought formed in my mind than +an extra fierce blast caught the light fabric, shook it as a +Newfoundland dog would shake a small terrier it had picked up in its +mouth, and then, before we knew what had happened, the wind had whirled +the tent away like a child's balloon, leaving us standing bareheaded, +shivering and exposed to all the force of the elements. I left Moira +with Cumshaw and groped about in the darkness, hoping to find our +missing tent, but I might as well have been hunting for the proverbial +needle in a bundle of hay for all the chance I had. I merely got wet +through, so much so that I changed by mind completely about the force of +Victorian storms, and when at last I found my way back to the others I +was sopping from the sole of my boots to the top of the woe-begone hat I +had hurriedly thrust on my head. As matters stood I could not get any +wetter, and I supposed that Cumshaw was in much the same state. +Nevertheless there was Moira to think of, and the sooner we got to +shelter of some sort, a cave on the hillside or even a tolerably thick +bush, the better it was going to be for all of us. I shouted this to +Cumshaw--it was very hard to hear now that the gale had risen and was +blowing everything to ribbons--and he understood me only after a couple +of attempts. So I took Moira by one chill wet hand and Cumshaw took the +other, and thus in the darkness and the steady soaking rain began our +hunt for shelter of some sort. + +I haven't an idea how far we walked. We just kept on and on, and really +I think we did not notice the storm so much as if we had been standing +still. Most of the time our attention was too taken up with feeling our +way, for the ground was very slippery and more than once I almost lost +my footing, to give more than a passing thought to personal discomfort. +It was too dark to see more than an inch or so in front of us, and even +then we saw nothing more than a black wall that constantly receded as we +advanced and yet was still as near as ever in the end. I don't think any +of us realised that we had drifted into a gully or a track of some sort +until I put out a tentative hand and felt a wall of bushes dead in front +of me. I pulled back with a jerk, but my sudden movement startled the +others, and in the flurry of the moment they did the very thing I had +been trying to avoid. They slipped and I went with them. I had sense +enough to release Moira's hand the moment I felt the drag of her body, +and then, before I quite knew what had happened. I found I was whirling +along in the mud, cavorting down the side of something that looked, or +felt--for I couldn't see, as I've already stated--very much like the +edge of a precipice. I brought up, just when I was beginning to wonder +how much further I had to fall, by colliding with something that felt +very like a hedge of brambles. There I lay in the soaking rain, with the +mud plastered thickly on my face, and every bit of breath knocked out of +my body. + +Somehow it seemed quieter down here. The wind still whistled and roared, +but it was some feet or more above my head and it touched me not. +Presently I began to sit up and wonder where I was and what had happened +and what had become of the others. I felt very stiff and wet and dirty, +and my right knee ached more than I liked. I was just on the point of +staggering to my feet and feeling my way to leveller ground, when quite +close to me I heard something very like a moan. I dropped on my knees at +that and put out a tremulous hand. My fingers touched something soft and +cold, and then I realised that it was a human face--Moira's, judging by +the tangle of hair. I put my hand under the head and raised it up. A +heavy mass of loose hair fell damply about my arm, and I knew then that +it was my sweetheart I held. She stirred a little and moaned again. I +was in a quandary. Clearly something must be done, but how or what I +could no more say that I could fly. The night and the storm had +swallowed Cumshaw up for the time being, but, beyond wondering vaguely +what had become of him, I never gave him a thought. All my life long I'd +been too used to men taking care of themselves to worry myself much +about my missing colleague. But Moira's case was insistent and called +for immediate attention. If there had been any shelter handy, even the +rudest of bark humpies, I would have known what to do, and, what is +more, I would have done it on the instant. Obviously the only course I +could take was to crawl in under the ledge or precipice, or whatever it +was, down which we had fallen and trust to the overhang--if there was +any--and the few bushes that I had crashed through as I spun down, to +keep the worst of the rain off us. + +Accordingly I rose to my feet and lifted Moira up in my arms. She was a +greater weight than I had thought, and that and my own condition caused +me to walk with the uneven steps of a drunken man. At last I found some +sort of recess in the side of the slope--I came across it more by +accident than of set purpose--and there I crouched with Moira between me +and the wall. The rain whirled in on me, and, if possible, I got a +trifle wetter than before, but I had the satisfaction of knowing that my +body kept both the rain and the wind away from her. It was a tedious +enough job, holding the unconscious girl in my arms, and more than once +I felt like dropping her, only that I recollected in time that I was +crouching ankle deep in mud. I am stronger than the average, and I have +had my body trained in hard schools, but even that has not made a +Hercules of me. I was more than glad when she opened her eyes, or, +rather, when she moved a little in my arms and then spoke. + +She was not hurt much, she said in answer to my question, but she felt +stiff in every limb, and the dampness seemed to have soaked through to +her very bones. How was I, and what had happened? + +I answered the two questions in almost the same breath. Brevity is not +only the soul of wit, but it is the sole method of carrying on a +conversation when both parties are wet and shivering. + +"Have you any idea where we are?" Moira asked. + +I shook my head and then, remembering that my answer was unintelligible +in the darkness, I said, "I haven't. We fell over a cliff or a +precipice, and that's all I can say about it." + +"Why," she said, "you're shivering!" And she put out her hand to touch +me. Her fingers came to rest on my arm, and I could feel her stiffen in +the dark. + +"Jim, why did you do it?" she demanded, with yet a curious softness in +her voice. + +"Do what?" I fenced. + +"As if I don't know that you're in your shirt sleeves. That's your coat +that's wrapped round me." + +"What if it is?" + +"You shouldn't have done it. You'll catch your death of cold." + +"Much chance there is of that," I grunted. + +She was silent for a time, and then I felt her arms about me, and I +realised that she was trying to place my coat about my shoulders. + +"If that's what you're after," I said, "I'll put it on. But you'll catch +cold yourself." + +She made no direct answer, but I heard something that sounded curiously +like a sob. + +Presently she moved up closer to me and a soft voice whispered in my +ear, "Jim, I'll be warmer if you'll let me snuggle up to you. It's a +long time since last ... I didn't deserve it then." + +I reached out in the darkness and drew her towards me. With her tired +head resting on my shoulder we waited for the dawn. + +It was a long time coming, how long I cannot say, for in my then state +of nervous tension the hours dragged with the awful unendingness of +eternity. At last the black wall of night cracked into streaks of grey, +looking for all the world like feeble sun-rays filtering through the +chinks in the roof of a deserted house. Moira stirred a little, and I +saw in one hasty glance that her wet hair was streaming about her face +and her saturated dress was caked with black mud. + +I held her off at arm's length and looked her over quizzically. Then we +each laughed outright at the sight the other presented. + +"You're wet through, Moira," I said, "and you look as if you've been +having a mud-bath. All the same you're a brick to have stood it all the +way you have." + +"I'm not and I haven't," she said cryptically, and silenced my further +objections with a kiss. + +When I looked out on the world again it was to see that the day had +already broken, and a dirty and bedraggled Albert Cumshaw was making his +way towards us with slow and painful steps. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WE ENTER THE VALLEY. + + +I cannot explain why just at that instant my heart gave a thump. There +was nothing for it to thump about. Cumshaw, toiling up the slope, for +all his woe-begone look, was the most ordinary figure imaginable, and +there was nothing in the landscape to excite or rivet attention. It was +a white dawn, and, though the rain had ceased long before, everything +was still dull and grey. In the hollows the mist lingered and hung +between us and the further view like a great white curtain. That and the +advancing Albert Cumshaw completed the picture, a picture that was +neither interesting nor sensational. Yet at the sight, as I've already +stated, my heart jumped queerly and unaccountably. Do coming events +really ever cast their shadows before them? Are we sometimes granted +visions of "the things beyond the dome?" I do not know, and, even if I +did, I would not care to express a definite opinion in my own case. I +have seen things dangerously like coincidences happen so often in my own +experience that I have grown chary of either affirming or denying that +there is something more than chance at the bottom of it all. Still the +fact remains that twice within twenty-four hours the same queer feeling +crept over me, and on each occasion the course of events proved that it +was premonition. But that is running a shade ahead of the story. + +I ran down the slope to meet Cumshaw, and the first thing I noticed was +that there was a great livid bruise across his right temple. + +"You've got a nasty knock there on your forehead," I greeted him, in the +casual self-contained fashion of the men who live in the open. + +He answered me with one of those laughs that are nothing more than +almost soundless chuckles. + +"Is it hurting?" I enquired with a trace of anxiety in my voice. + +"Hurting, hell!" he said impolitely. "Of course it is." + +"How did you do it? Was it an accident?" + +"I don't look as if I did it just for amusement, do I?" he snarled. + +"It hasn't improved your temper, my lad," I said under my breath. Aloud +I remarked: "We're all in much the same boat. Miss Drummond's had a +stiff time of it, and I've got all my bruises where you can't see them, +but I can assure you that they hurt all the same." + +At the mention of Moira a shadow passed over his face. Frankly I could +not quite understand his attitude towards her. At first I was rather of +the opinion that he was in love with her, but latterly I hadn't been so +sure, for he had had the decency to suppress his feelings once he found +how the land lay. The mere mention of her name calmed him down +wonderfully. He even seemed a little ashamed of his outbursts of temper. + +"I might have remembered that I wasn't the only one in the party," he +said. "But then I came a fearful cropper, and on top of it I've been out +in the rain all night." + +"We were a little luckier." I told him. "We found an overhang and that +kept off most of the rain. All the same I wouldn't mind a chance of +drying myself." + +"And we're likely to get that," he said with some asperity. "All our +goods are God knows how many miles behind. I've got a box of matches in +my pocket, but they're just about as useful here as they would be at the +bottom of the sea." + +"Come now," I said, "it's not as bad as all that. We've got a lady to +take care of, and we've got to shuffle our brains about a bit and see +what we can do. We'll never get anywhere by standing still railing at +our fate." + +"Well, you're in charge, Carstairs," he told me. "It's up to you." + +"It is," I admitted, "and as the first step towards success I might +point out to you that the mist is lifting." + +He wheeled round at that with greater agility than I expected, seeing +that by his own account he was still feeling pretty dicky. The mist was +lifting in truth, and yellow spears of sunlight were thrusting +themselves through like hat pins run through cloth. + +"It'll be the better part of half an hour before the place's clear," he +asserted, with one eye cocked at the sky and the other watching me. + +"In the meanwhile we'd better go back to Miss Drummond and set her mind +at rest," I suggested. + +He trudged along at my elbow with a step that lacked its usual buoyancy, +but the sidelong glances I stole at him every now and then showed me +that he was fast recovering his spirits. The bruise on his forehead, +seen now close at hand and in a better light, was not the fearsome thing +I had at first taken it to be. True, it lent him an air of general +disrepute, but then none of us were quite fit for the drawing-room. Even +Moira, sheltered as she had been, showed very much the worse for wear. +She greeted Cumshaw with a cheery smile, the bravest thing about her I +thought, and a ready question as to his adventures. But he could tell +her little more than that he had gone over the edge with us and rolled +away until he brought up against the stone or whatever it was that had +bruised his face so nicely. Our own story, what there was of it, was +soon told, and a few glances about us showed that in the murk of the +night and rain we had missed our footing and shot off the track a dozen +feet or so to the level ground below. Above us waved the tall shapes of +kingly gums, and below us lay vast spaces of bracken. Beyond that we +could form little idea as to our position, though the mist was slowly +drifting away now. + +"The best thing to do, I suppose," I remarked, "is to get back to last +night's camping-place and see what we can find of the stores. Of course +we shouldn't have left them, but it's no use being wise after the event. +We've to go back as quick as we can now, and maybe we can dig up +something warm. That's supposing that everything isn't too wet to be +used." + +"As I remarked before, it's up to you," Cumshaw threw at me. "Lead on, +Carstairs." + +"If you can show me any way back to the main track, I'll lead on with +pleasure," I told him. "There's none visible that I can see, and I don't +fancy that my eyes are over dull." + +Cumshaw said something under his breath, but before I could drop on him +for it Moira interposed. "How about walking round at the foot of this +ridge and seeing where it'll lead us to?" she suggested. + +"That's as fine a plan as any," I answered. "We'll try it." + +We did. We sauntered along listlessly for the best part of an hour, and +then it struck me all of a sudden that we were rising rapidly. + +"We're on the wrong track," I said, stopping short. "We didn't come down +as steep a slope as this last night." + +"You're right there, Carstairs. We didn't," Cumshaw said, stopping short +and looking about him with a puzzled air. + +"Why not keep right on?" Moira advised. "It's just possible that we're +working back to the track." + +"We'll give it a chance," I said, after chewing the suggestion over in +silence for a few minutes. "We'll keep on for ten minutes or so, and if +it gets any worse we can always go back." + +The ground became rougher at every step and finally in despair I called +a halt. The sun was well up by this and the mist had cleared away from +the hills, though filmy vapors still lingered in what I knew must be the +hollows. In front was a causeway, strewn with boulders, and beyond that +what I took to be a sea of wattles. I could see no use in progressing +further in that direction, and I said so as succinctly as I could. +Cumshaw was inclined to argue, but the consensus of opinion was against +him. The outcome of it was that we decided to retrace our steps. Before +we did so I suggested looking about for something that would give us an +indication of our present position. + +I stumbled on it quite by accident. Another step further and I would +have fallen down the funnel-shaped opening that gaped at my feet. I drew +back just in time to save myself, and for the second time that morning +my heart gave a jump. To think that we had gone so close to missing it +altogether! The thing, so to speak, had lain at our feet all the time. I +turned about and searched the landscape for my companions. Moira was +visible in the near distance; the wattles had swallowed Cumshaw. + +"Cumshaw, Moira, I've found it!" I called at the top of my voice. + +Moira whipped round at the sound of my voice. I waved to her and she +came running towards me. A second later I saw Cumshaw come out of the +shadows, and I yelled at him with all the power of my lungs. I don't +know what he must have thought of the yelling, dancing, frantically +waving figure that caught his eye. He must have fancied for a moment +that I had gone mad. Then, in a flash, so he says, the truth dawned on +him, and he in his turn sprinted towards me, the one idea uppermost in +his mind being that the valley must have been found. At the same instant +my soul was singing "Eureka!" and Moira was weeping and laughing at the +same time. + +"Cumshaw," I cried, as he came within speaking distance, "if that's not +the funnel that your father and Bradby left the valley by you can call +me a goggle-eyed Chinaman." + +And then somehow we all seemed to be talking together. + +"That must be the valley down under the wattles." + +"I knew we'd find it." + +"It only shows that one should never give in." + +"If we hadn't fallen down that slope last night...." + +"If I hadn't kept going when you all wanted to turn back, you mean." + +"It's found now and that's the best part of it." + +I must confess that I lost my head just as the others did. I should have +known better, I suppose, than to go yelling out our discovery at the top +of my lungs, but knowing's one thing and doing's altogether different. +I've seen miners on the Lakekamu shouting themselves hoarse over even +less of a discovery, seasoned men who knew how and when to hold their +tongues. Could tyros like ourselves be blamed for what we did? I don't +think so. + +"That's the funnel right enough," Cumshaw said. "There can't possibly be +two of the same kind in the same district. I'm sure this is the one; +it's been described too often to me for there to be any mistake about +it. But what's puzzling me is the valley. There doesn't seem to be much +of one here. All I can see is wattles, wattles whichever way I look." + +"There's one way to settle it," I said in an aside to him, and I looked +at Moira. + +He gathered from my warning glance that I had something to say I didn't +want her to hear, so he shifted out of earshot with me. + +"There's things you don't want a girl to see," I explained as we walked +off; "but if this is the valley the skeletons of those two horses should +be down there somewhere," and I pointed over the edge of the funnel. + +"I'll go down," he said with alacrity. "I guess it's my go. It's time I +took some sort of a risk." + +"You surely don't expect there'll be anything wrong?" I queried. + +"I can't say," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Anyway, I +think you'd better get back to Miss Drummond. She's looking over this +way, and in a minute or so she'll be asking awkward questions, if you +don't go and tell her something." + +"All right," I agreed. "Look as slippy as you can, but be careful. An +injured man is always more or less of a nuisance, you know." + +He grinned cheerfully at that, and then, without another word, turned on +his heel and made off towards the funnel. I walked back to Moira. + +"What are you going to do now?" she asked me suspiciously. "What's Mr. +Cumshaw after?" + +"He's going down through that funnel-shaped thing," I answered. "He +wants to see what's at the end of it." + +The golden-brown eyes regarded me thoughtfully for a space and then: +"Why didn't you go yourself instead of sending him?" she asked. + +"It was his suggestion," I said defensively. "He seemed to think he had +a better right than anyone else, so I didn't argue with him about it. I +let him go." + +"We could all have gone," she hinted. + +"We could have," I agreed, "but we didn't." + +In the meantime Cumshaw had lowered himself carefully down into the +opening, felt about a bit with his feet, found a foothold, and then +swung easily down from projecting ledge to projecting ledge. He emerged +quite unexpectedly into a tangled mass of wattle. That puzzled him much, +as it had puzzled me a few minutes previously; the elder Cumshaw's tale +contained no mention of wattle save the golden barrier at the further +side of the valley. Yet here was wattle as far as the eye could reach. +It looked as if a generous scientist, like the man in H. G. Wells' "Food +of the Gods," had let loose some power capable of forcing on this +abnormal growth. The valley itself was in an undulating sea of +vegetation. Had it been early in September the place would have been a +vast expanse of golden glory, but as it was late March the dominant +color note was that of grey-green. Under the circumstances it was as +clear as daylight how the elder man had missed the place. It was buried +under the rank growth, and all definable features, as we learnt +later--everything that could be used as a leading mark--had disappeared +or been swamped by the wattles. The bushes were not so thick about the +lower entrance to the funnel as to impede Cumshaw's movements, and so he +began to look about him in the hope of locating the one thing that would +definitely identify the place. The horses had been shot close to the +wall of rock, and it was a practical certainty that some trace of their +bodies would be found in the vicinity. Ten minutes' close search brought +to light a pile of bones that might or might not be those of the missing +animals--Cumshaw had no knowledge of anatomical structure and so did not +feel quite clear on that point--but the remarkable feature about them in +his eyes was that they were all more or less blackened, and amongst them +he found a heap of lime-dust, which he took to be bones reduced to their +elemental form by the application of great heat. Still he felt justified +in regarding the identity of the place as being sufficiently +established, and without wasting any more time he returned the way he +had come. + +"There's no doubt about it," I agreed when I heard his tale. "This is +the valley right enough. I vote on going down there at once. The old hut +can't be far away, and it'll be somewhere for us to camp in and fix up +our clothes. And that reminds me that one of us'll have to go back for +our stores and extra clothes. There's no need for both of us to go; one +will do. However that can wait until we find the hut." + +"I'm not hungry," Moira said, "and I think my clothes are practically +dry. The sun's coming out now, and I don't see why we should feel any +the worse for last night's adventures if we only take reasonable care of +ourselves." + +"If that's the case," I remarked, "let us go down by all means." + +I sent Cumshaw down first, as he was the only one of us who was familiar +with the place, and then I handed Moira down to him. Or, rather, I +helped her down; Moira at the best of times is no light weight. For a +moment we stood blinking at the entrance to the funnel, and then Moira +caught my arm in her impulsive way and cried, "Come on, Jim! Let's enter +into Paradise!" + +I smiled at her quaintness and made to follow her, but Cumshaw +interposed quickly. "Not that way," he said. "This is the way." He +glanced at me as he spoke, and I realised that he was taking us by a +path that would lead us away from the mouldering bones. + +The ground was rough underfoot, and the matted cover of vegetation that +effectually hid stray boulders from view made it all the worse. In +places the wattle grew over our heads in a profusion that was almost +tropical, and more than once we would have lost our way had I not taken +our bearings at the start, and thus was able to guide the party by means +of my pocket-compass. + +"In your father's day there was a wood hereabouts," I said to Cumshaw +presently. "There doesn't seem to be one now." + +"There doesn't," he said. "Can you understand how practically the entire +physical features of the place have changed so much?" + +"Frankly I can't. But they apparently have, and that's about all we can +say. We'll just have to keep our eyes open and trust to luck." + +"Our luck seems to have held good so far," Moira said, turning to me +with high hope in her face. + +"Mind your footing," I said warningly. "You want to watch every inch of +the way. There's all sorts of rocks and boulders under this stuff." + +"I'll be careful," she smiled, and scarcely were the words out of her +mouth than her foot caught in something. She pitched forward on her face +before I could spring to her assistance. I lifted her up carefully, but +she seemed none the worse for her fall. + +"I don't know what it was that tripped me," she confided. "It wasn't a +boulder or anything of the sort. I think it was a log of wood, yet my +foot seemed to catch underneath it." + +I was on the point of offering a suggestion, but something held me +silent, and instead I dropped down on my knees and felt feverishly in +the undergrowth. Of course it was a silly thing to do--there might have +been snakes and all manner of noxious crawling things there--but I +didn't think of that at the time. I was too intent on solving the +riddle. My hand touched something.... I straightened up and faced the +others. + +"Moira and Cumshaw," I said. "I've found the hut. That's a piece of it +there." Bending down, I dragged to light a rough-hewn beam that possibly +had been the threshold plank. It was weather-worn, and in places the +fungus had grown thickly on it; but I could see for all that that it had +been warped and twisted and charred in the blaze of a fire. Three pairs +of eyes met across the plank, and three lips put the same idea into +words. + +"There's been a fire here," we said in chorus. + +"And that," I added on my own account, for the benefit of the others who +had not jumped to the same conclusion as I had, "and that explains +everything that's puzzled us since we entered the valley. There's been a +bush fire here at some period during the last twenty years. It destroyed +the hut, it burnt down the wood, and it made that pile of lime you +found, Cumshaw." + +"What pile was that?" Moira queried quickly. "I didn't see any." + +"Mr. Cumshaw passed a pile in the bushes as we came along," I said +off-handedly. "The heat must have rendered the stones down." + +She accepted my explanation at its face value. + +"No wonder the place remained hidden," I ran on. "If you'll look over +east, where there should be a lone tree, you won't find any. It's wattle +everywhere you look. The fire cleared out all the trees and forced the +wattle on in their place. If you came by here on any side but the one we +came by you'd take this to be just an ordinary hollow full of wattle." + +"You're talking nothing else but wattle," Cumshaw interrupted. "What has +the wattle to do with the fire anyway?" + +"Why, don't you see?" I cried. "Without the fire there wouldn't have +been any wattle here. The seed'll lie dormant in the ground for years +sometimes; it takes great heat to germinate them. That's why wattle +always springs up in profusion after there's been a bush fire. The same +thing happens with grass, the coarser kinds, though to a lesser extent." + +"I see," he said gravely. "It means that we are back just where we +began." + +"It doesn't mean anything of the sort," I said quickly. "All this is in +our favor. We're better off than we were before." + +"I don't see how that is," he replied. + +"But it is," I persisted, "and I'll show you why when the time comes. +And now there's plenty to be done. One of us has to go back for the +provisions that we left behind last night, and the other's got to stop +here with Miss Drummond and run up a bit of a bark humpy that'll keep +off the wind and won't let the rain through. Now if you're as hungry as +I am you'll understand just how pressing the need of that food is. It's +you or I, Cumshaw. Which of us is to go?" + +"I'll toss you," Cumshaw offered. + +I nodded, and he drew a coin from out his pocket and spun it in the air. + +"Heads!" I called. + +We bent down over it. "It's tail," said Cumshaw. "I go back for the +food," I said. + +I straightened up and spoke seriously to the pair of them. "Cumshaw," I +said, "do as much as you can while I'm away, and keep one eye on the +horizon all the time. You must remember that there's always danger +about; the luck's been with us so far, but it may turn any minute, and +our rivals are just the sort of men who'd come on you suddenly and shoot +before you could say 'Jack Robinson.' And as for you, Moira, keep out of +harm's way and do what you can towards keeping a good lookout. I'm going +across to the other side, as I reckon that we must have travelled round +the valley last night." + +"You'll be careful, won't you, Jim, dear?" Moira whispered. + +"Aren't I always careful?" I said. "It's you that's got to watch out. +Now, one kiss, dear. I'll be back as soon as I can possibly manage it." + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later I had gained the further wall of the valley, and +found that, with the help of the bushes, it was the easiest thing +imaginable for an active man like myself to haul himself up over the +ridge and drop on the track which Abel Cumshaw and the late Mr. Bradby +had trodden so many years before. I took my bearings carefully, then +snapped up my pocket-compass and set off down the road with as jaunty a +swing as I was capable of. I had long got over my stiffness, and now +that the sun was shining brightly I began to feel more confident than +ever that all was going well. If it had not been for the terrible way in +which the dread purpose of our rivals had been brought home to us +already I would have felt absolutely at ease. As it was I did not let my +rosy anticipations of the future interfere at all with my sense of +caution. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DIES IRAE. + + +As a matter of strict fact the place was much further away than I had +anticipated. We must have wandered a considerable distance in the +confusion of the evening's storm and covered more ground than we had +thought. I had positioned the sun as I had left the valley and judged +the time to be about eleven o'clock; "that," I thought, "will bring me +back by two at the very latest." But really it was close on five, and +the shadows were already dropping down over the country-side before I +was ready to return. I found our little store of goods intact, though +most of them were rain-soaked, and as a measure of good fortune I +retrieved the tent whose sudden departure had been the primary cause of +our hurriedly shifting camp. There was a fair load in all, but when I +had made it up and rolled everything packwise in the tent and fastened +it on my shoulders with what odd bits of string I found handy, there +wasn't anything in it that would seriously try the strength of a +seasoned explorer like myself. Then, because the night was beginning to +draw in and I did not want to go stumbling through the valley in the +dark, I set off at my top pace. I don't claim to be anything wonderful +as far as walking is concerned, but if I were ever asked what I +considered my record I would point back to that very night. I forced +myself along, my whole being intent on reaching the valley before the +sun slipped down behind the hills. I think it was more will-power than +sheer physical strength that kept me moving. I was just a little anxious +about Moira too. Cumshaw was a fine chap and clever in his own way, +though he did have occasional spurts of temper; but he lacked my +woodcraft experience, and I wasn't sure but what he might go to pieces +if any prowlers pounced down on him unawares. Neither he nor Moira had +ever come up against anything that would teach them to act as quickly as +they could think, and, though they might work like niggers when they +were under someone else's orders, an emergency that threw them on their +own resources might find them seriously wanting. + +The shadows lengthened as I sped along, the tired yellow sun slipped +down behind the hills like a penny-into-the-slot machine, and the early +April twilight touched all inanimate objects with its own drab lack of +coloring. I had no fear of losing my way in the darkness--I had too much +locality sense for that--but the possibilities of my being ambushed +appeared too many to be pleasant. A hurrying man, who is also +heavily-laden, cannot pick his footsteps with the meticulous care that +he would like, and it seemed within the bounds of probability that some +strange listener might start out on my track and put an abrupt period to +my career of usefulness. I have an unqualified and not unreasonable +objection to being cut off in what is practically the flower of my +youth. I was afraid. I admit that quite frankly, and I have yet to find +the man who has not known fear whenever he drifted into a tight corner. +But fear is not the hall-mark of a coward; it is at worst a natural +impulse to seek safety and take precautions, and at its best it is the +intellectual penalty that a strong man pays for having a will-power that +will not permit him to scurry away from danger and earth himself like a +rabbit in its burrow. + +I reached the valley without incident, scrambled down the historic +slope, now as slippery as a child's mud-slide, and was half-way across +the open space before I received my first shock. Some queer sixth sense +pulled me up in mid-stride. I had heard nothing, I had seen nothing; but +for all that I knew that a strange and obtrusive presence was very close +to me. The New Guinea native can at times tell the presence of an enemy +simply by his sense of smell, and I suppose I've lived so long amongst +them that I have acquired something of this kind. Be this as it may, I +was aware of the other man's proximity long before my faculties went +into action and confirmed me in my belief. + +I slipped my shoulders out of the pack-strings and dropped it +noiselessly on the ground. At that precise instant I heard a stealthy +movement on my left hand. It was so dark that I could not see an inch in +front of my face, but a little eddy of the breeze brought me the merest +whiff of stale tobacco--the sort of smell that comes from a pipe that +has been put out before it has completely burnt away. It was that dead +scent that always seems to hang about the vicinity of a newly quenched +fire. I was so close that I caught the sound of the man's breathing. +With every second breath there came a barely perceptible wheeze, and in +an instant my mind flashed back to the night of the burglary in Bryce's +house and the man I had caught coming out of the library. I was so sure +of it that I wasted no further time in stalking him; no two men in the +world could have that same regular wheezing breath. It requires a neat +sense of distance to catch an invisible man round the throat when he and +everything else tangible and real is hidden under cover of Stygian +darkness; but this time I made the snatch of my life, and as luck would +have it, had him by the windpipe before he realised that there was +anyone within a quarter of a mile of him. I didn't give him a chance to +cry out--I had no idea how close his friends were, if he had any--but +just threw all my weight into my clutching hands and quietly but +inexorably choked the life out of him. In the struggle his hat fell off +and I released one hand and ran it through his hair. Up till then there +was a lingering suspicion at the back of my mind, that after all I might +have throttled Cumshaw by mistake, but the feel of that straight hair +completely burked the last of my doubts. There was no possible chance of +mistaking Cumshaw's curly crop for the strands I held in my free hand, +for he suddenly went limp under my hands, and when I fumbled for his +heart I could not feel it beating. At the time I felt rather cut up, and +considered that I had practically killed the man in cold blood; but +afterwards, when I came to reckon up the tally of disaster, I was sorry +that I had passed him out so peacefully. There were a lot of other +methods I might have used had I known in time. But then I didn't, and +that makes all the difference. + +Satisfied in my own mind that the stranger was out of action for good +and all, I rose to my feet and threaded my way back to where I had left +my pack. I slipped the strings over my shoulders and set off again in +the direction I hoped to find Moira and my companion. But scarcely had I +taken a dozen steps forward when the silence of the night was shattered +by the report of a revolver, and in an instant a perfect fusillade had +begun. I dropped all caution at that. Throwing the pack from off my +shoulders, I drew my revolver as I ran. I simply tore across the +intervening space like a red god of vengeance suddenly descended on a +planet of sin. The sound of the shots had maddened me beyond all belief, +and in my then mood I would have walked single-handed into a whole army. +Luckily for myself I had not gone far before I collided with a wattle +bush, and the scratches I received brought me back to a saner frame of +mind. I saw with an appalling clarity of vision that I was taking the +worst possible course. Cumshaw and Moira were being attacked--that was +beyond question--and my game was to come upon the attackers unawares and +either rout or put as many of them out of action as I could with the +weapons at my command. + +So when I moved off again I had slackened my pace down to a stealthy +cat-like tread that took me along with an incredible absence of noise. +As I moved forward I began to turn the configuration of the place over +in my mind and wonder to what practical use I could put the fine natural +cover of the bushes. As I could see none I put the matter out of my head +and devoted all my energies to coming to immediate grips with the men +who had murdered the eternal peace of the valley. + +Presently I caught sight of a little red flash from one of the +revolvers, but as I had no idea as to whose it was I held my hand and +commenced to circle round the fight. It must be remembered, in order to +gauge the seriousness of the situation, that the night was as black as +the ace of spades, and that the only guide I had was the occasional +flash from a revolver--a flash that might have come from either friend +or foe; I had nothing to tell me which. It was in this queer fashion +that I was progressing when the toe of my boot touched something soft +and alien. I slipped down by the side of it and ran my hand over it. It +was a man's body--the still warm body from which the pulsing life had +suddenly been hurled. With my experience of the other man I had handled +earlier in the night I felt for the hair, and, to my utter horror, I +clutched a crop of short, crisp curls. It was Albert Cumshaw beyond a +doubt. I did not waste a moment in useless sentimentality over the dead. +The truth flashed across my mind with the blinding clearness of +lightning. Moira was by herself, fighting like some heroic goddess +against those other bestial savages. I know it is the fashion to picture +men in such moments as going berserker, but I don't think in my case +that I have ever been so sanely clear-headed in my life. It was a +monstrous and incredible thing that this quiet little corner of the +quietest little State in Australia should be polluted by the presence of +the incarnate fiends that had murdered Bryce, that had killed Cumshaw, +and were even now seeking to send Moira to join them in the shades. A +cold, pitiless anger took possession of me, and I set about my work of +vengeance as calmly as if I were going rabbit-shooting. I knew now of a +surety that I could shoot at any man who came within range without fear +or favor. + +It was then I blessed my stars for the matted undergrowth and the wild +profusion of wattle. The one deadened the sound of my movements and the +other gave me all the cover I needed. The game was now fairly in my +hands, and if I lost it would be through no one's fault but my own. It +was quite evident on the face of it that the attacking force had no idea +that a third party was maneuvering outside the range of fire, and I +counted on that fact to assist me in my work. The one drawback at +present was that I had no notion which was friend and which was foe. The +shots seemed to come from all round the compass, and any one of them +might be Moira's. It was quite on the cards that she was moving round in +a circle, in the full knowledge that every time she fired she shot at an +enemy, and again it was just as likely that she knew nothing at all +about Cumshaw's death. Clearly it was a situation that called for an +immense amount of care on my part. + +I had no time to waste puzzling the matter out; whatever I did had to be +done as quickly as possible, for I had no guarantee that the one-sided +warfare might not terminate fatally at any moment. One of the attackers +was just as likely to hit Moira as she was to hit him. I had slipped up +the catch of my revolver long before this, and was carrying it in such a +fashion that it could be fired instantly. I felt ready for any +emergency, and the contingency that presently arose found me well +prepared. There was a stealthy rush through the undergrowth, and a man +backed hastily in my direction. I couldn't see him, but I knew that it +was a man by the sound of the footsteps. There is always a perceptible +difference between the footsteps of a man and a woman, but it requires a +trained ear to pick it out. I slipped down into cover as he rushed back, +and, judging more by sound than sight, I fired as he passed me. He came +down heavily amidst a crash of breaking branches and the smashing of +twigs. "I seem to be the only sure-footed man about to-night," I thought +as the fellow thudded to the ground. At that precise moment, as if to +give the lie direct to me, a deafening report sounded right in my ear, a +pain as of a red-hot needle stabbed through my right shoulder, and I +pitched forward on my face. Even as my nose ploughed through the soft +soil it occurred to me to wonder if I had received a shot intended for +the other man, or if he was not as dead as I had fancied and signalised +his escape by shooting me in his turn. I was more scared than hurt, and +I quickly picked myself up and clapped an anxious hand to my throbbing +shoulder. The ball, by the feel of it, had done nothing worse than skim +through the fleshy part of my arm, and I was in no wise incapacitated. I +thanked my lucky stars that I was whole and entire, save for a spoonful +or so of unwanted blood, for I rather guessed that I had heavy work +ahead of me before I went to sleep that night. + +Just as my mind was clearing again I became aware that someone was +striking matches. I distinctly heard the scrape of one along the top of +the box, and I fancied I saw a tiny phosphorescent glow such as a match +makes when it misfires, but in that I may have been mistaken. As I +watched for another flash it dawned on me that the artillery had ceased +fire, and, for aught I knew to the contrary, I was probably the last +bird topped off that night. Therefore the person with the matches could +only be one of the victorious side, and was just as obviously counting +up the casualties. + +There came another little interlude of scraping, a match spluttered +undecidedly for a moment and then glowed brightly. After the Stygian +darkness the light came as a queer physical shock, and for the space of +a heart-beat I blinked like an owl in broad daylight. I think the other +person must have been just as much dazzled as I was, for the light died +out and the glowing tip of the match fell to the ground without a +movement from either of us. But it was followed almost instantly by +another match, less damp than its fellow, for it splashed into light +right away. And there in the little circle of radiance I caught sight of +the one face on earth that I ever wished to see again. + +"Moira!" I gasped and glided to her side. + +She dropped the match in the surprise of the moment, and I heard her +breath come and go before she answered, "You, Jim! Oh, I'm so glad! I +thought perhaps...." + +"They didn't," I said grimly, cutting across her thoughts. "It was the +other way about." + +"Mr. Cumshaw, Jim? Have you seen him anywhere?" + +"No," I said truthfully enough. I hadn't seen him; it had been too dark, +and I dared not strike a match. + +"Oh, I'm afraid he's been shot. We got separated in the darkness, and I +don't know what happened to him." + +"How did you get separated?" I queried quickly. + +"We were making for the cave and I lost him in the dark. After that they +started firing, and I just fired back, more to keep up my courage than +anything." + +"But where on earth did you get the revolver? You hadn't one of your +own." + +"Yes, I had, Jim. I brought it with me, and I didn't say anything +because I thought you might laugh or else be angry with me." + +"You've certainly shown that you know how to use it," I said dryly. + +Something in my voice must have told her what had happened. "What do you +mean?" she asked in a frightened tone. "Did I shoot anyone?" + +"Yes," I said slowly. "You pinked me. Right in the shoulder. It's only a +flesh-wound; nothing to worry about." + +"I've hurt you and I didn't mean to," she wailed. + +I reached out and seized her by the shoulders. "Look here, Moira," I +said with a semblance of sternness in my voice, "you've done a man's +work to-night and it's making you hysterical. Don't let it. Pull +yourself together, for heaven's sake if not for mine." + +I think it was just that last bit that brought her round. "I'm sorry, +Jim," she said, though what there was to be sorry about was more than I +could say. + +"And now, Moira," I ran on before she had time to say anything more, +"the sooner we finish that interrupted journey to the cave the better. +It's not as good as the hut would be if it was still standing, but it +gives us shelter, and that's the main thing. Also we can light a fire +and sleep the night in peace, now that the gang seems to have been +rubbed out for good." + +She made no answer, so I took her arm, and thus we commenced our walk +across the valley. I found the pack without any trouble, though my heart +was in my mouth for fear that we would trip over poor Cumshaw's body. +But the luck was with me that night, though it hadn't been with him, and +I reached the pack and hoisted it on my shoulders without either of us +striking any of the victims of the fight. The sting of the wound in my +shoulder made the pack an uncomfortable burden, but I bore it as best I +could, for I was afraid that Moira would notice me if I kept wriggling +it into an easier position. So I fought the pain all the way to the +cave, which we reached in something under five minutes. Moira did not +speak a word all the way, and somehow I hadn't the heart to break the +news of Cumshaw's death to her. It had to be done sooner or later, I +knew, but I was inclined to put it off as long as possible. + +Once in the cave I built a little fire of chips and dry bracken that had +somehow escaped the rain. That done I turned with a clear conscience to +the task of making tea. Moira, however, had forestalled me; the billy +was already full, and she but awaited me to adjust the tripod of sticks +that held it in its place over the fire. It was while I was bending over +doing this that she must have noticed the bloodstains on my sleeve. At +any rate, when I straightened up, she looked at me with accusation in +her eyes. + +"Why didn't you tell me before that it was as bad as that?" she asked. + +"Because it isn't," I answered with cheerful paradox. But she would have +none of my jesting, and if I hadn't allowed her to wash and bind it up +right away I'm afraid I wouldn't have got any tea that night. When she +finished she placed her hands upon my shoulders and kissed me full on +the lips. + +"My dear," she said brokenly, "you would die for me, I know, and yet I +so little deserve your love." + +I had tact enough to suppress the banality that was trembling on my +lips. + + * * * * * + +"I wonder what could have happened to Mr. Cumshaw?" she remarked about +an hour later. "You'd have thought he'd have been here long ago if he +was all right." + +"Maybe," I said, bending my head over the fire so she would not see my +tell-tale face, "maybe he's not satisfied that this is our party." + +There was an interval of silence and, though I did not look up, I knew +that she was regarding me steadfastly. I could feel her eyes boring into +my head like twin gimlets. + +"Jim," she said suddenly and sharply, "what are you hiding from me? What +has happened to Mr. Cumshaw? I know something has gone wrong by the way +you're acting." + +I raised my eyes to meet hers; it was impossible to hide it any longer. +"The very worst that could happen," I said frozenly, and I dropped my +head once more. + +When I looked up again she was crying very softly to herself. I could +understand her sorrow, and for once her regard for the man caused me no +stab of pain; one cannot be jealous of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE SOLUTION. + + +The grey light of the early dawn found me wide awake and alert. I felt +much fatigued after my exertions of the previous night, and would dearly +have liked to have slept an hour or so longer, but there was that to be +done which would admit of no delay. Further out in the Valley lay three +dead men, and I felt I must get them out of sight before Moira awoke. +Accordingly I scribbled a short note of explanation on a leaf torn from +my pocket-book, placed it in a conspicuous position, and, taking with me +the light spade we had brought with us, I slipped noiselessly out of the +cave. I found the bodies of our two enemies without any trouble, but, to +my great surprise, there was no trace of Cumshaw. He had disappeared as +utterly as if the earth had opened up and swallowed him. True, there +were broken branches and snapped twigs galore, but of signs that would +show me where the body had been taken or what had happened after I had +left, there was absolutely none. For the moment I wondered if it had all +been but a vivid dream, but the sight of the torn and scarred ground and +the memory of the other two bodies told me that it was only too real. +Obviously then the corpse had been moved, but where or by whom I could +not say. + +I spent the next half-hour in scouring the valley from end to end, yet +when I had finished I was compelled to admit that I was no nearer to a +solution than before. All the time, of course, there was a perfectly +simple explanation staring me in the face, but it was so infernally +obvious that I missed it. + +As my search had not led me any further forward, I shut the matter out +of my mind for the present and turned to the less engrossing though +certainly more pressing task of burying the bodies that remained. The +spot I chose for the grave seemed rather familiar to me, but for the +moment I could not say just what it brought to my mind. I pegged away +with the spade, and had already dug a fair-sized hole when, +unexpectedly, the further side of the grave caved in. I swore under my +breath at this brilliant result of my efforts, and, with the intention +of clearing away the rubble, thrust my spade deep into the loose earth. +It met with a solid obstruction, something that seemed to me like the +root of a tree, or----At that I stopped dead. Could it be possible that +I had struck the foundation of the hut? + +The morning we entered the valley Moira had tripped over one of the +loose logs that had once been part of the building, and at the time I +had attached peculiar significance to the discovery; but now it appeared +that I had actually gone one better. Without more ado I made the dirt +fly, and in less time than it takes to tell I had shot away the covering +earth and brought to light the object that had at first drawn my +attention. I saw then, with a gasp of relief, that it was indeed the +eastern foundation of the hut that I had unearthed. Whoever had built +the place had built well, for the thick cross-piece still remained +tightly nailed to the stout posts that had supported the foundation. The +fire that had swept the neighbourhood had somehow failed to consume it, +though subsequent developments had buried it under piles of bracken and +dead brushwood. It was an amazing discovery, and under the circumstances +the luckiest one imaginable. At the very least it enabled me to place +one of the fixed points that were vital to the discovery of the plunder. +At the same time it showed me how I might be able, with a little extra +luck, to locate the sight of the burnt tree. + +I went on with my digging. + +Half an hour later I finished my self-imposed task, swung the spade over +my shoulder, and prepared to return to the cave. I could see Moira in +the distance moving towards me, and I guessed that my prolonged absence +had made her feel somewhat uneasy. + +"Where have you been all the time, Jim?" was her greeting. "I was just +beginning to fear that something had happened to you." + +"Something has," I answered, "but not in the way you mean. I've located +the exact position of the hut. That piece of wood you tripped over must +have been only a log that escaped being fully consumed. We're well on +the way towards finding the treasure now." + +She eyed me keenly before she spoke again, and I knew what she was going +to ask me almost before she put her thoughts into words. + +"Was that all you went to do?" she asked. + +"No," I said, "I came out mainly to bury the dead." + +She gave a little shudder at that, but her voice was steady enough as +she said, "And you did? All of them?" + +I shook my head. "Not him," I said ungrammatically. + +"Why?" she demanded, with Heaven knows what idea at the back of the +question. + +"Because," I said distinctly, "because he wasn't there." + +"Jim, whatever do you mean?" she cried. + +"I can't say any more than I've just said," I told her. "When I went to +look I found he wasn't where I'd left him last night, and, though I +searched the valley from end to end, I couldn't find sign or sight of +him." + +"It's impossible," she asserted. "You can't make a dead man fade into +thin air like that. If he's not in the valley, he's been taken out of +it." + +"And who's taken him out?" I countered. "There's only two ways out. +Nobody's passed us during the night, and anyone that went out through +the wattles would leave a trail like an elephant." + +"That's true enough," she admitted crestfallenly. And then she turned on +me swiftly. "Jim," she cried, "it's possible.... He might...." + +The idea jumped into my mind at almost the same moment, but it seemed +too preposterous for belief. + +"No," I interrupted. "It isn't. He couldn't. Moira, I tell you he was as +dead as a door-nail when I reached him." + +She made a little gesture of despair as she realised to the full the +bitter futility of attempting to solve the puzzle, yet I had a feeling +that she had not quite given up hope. She did not make any further +remark on the way back to the cave, and she certainly wasn't as much +thrilled by my discovery of the ruins of the hut as I had expected her +to be. I let her be; it's never safe to divert the current of a woman's +thoughts. + +I stepped into the cave ahead of her, and no sooner had I passed from +the light outside into the interior darkness than a crisp voice snapped +at me. + +"Hands up!" it said tersely. + +I shot my hands into the air more as a measure of precaution than +anything else, for I recognised the voice--the voice that I thought had +been silenced for ever. + +"Cumshaw!" I ejaculated. + +I could not see him since he was lurking right in the interior shadows, +but some electric quality in the air convinced me that his astonishment +was as great as mine. Nevertheless he answered me in tones that were as +calm as could be. + +"So it's yourself, Carstairs," he said. "I'll have to apologise for +being a little previous with you, but you must remember that you are +standing in your own light and I can only see your outline. And----Ah! +here is Miss Drummond too." + +He came towards us at that, a dark figure looming out of the gloom. And +the next instant we had him one by each hand and pelted him with +questions. + +"I thought you were dead," I said. "How did you come alive again?" + +"What happened?" Moira asked. + +"How did you get here and what were you doing all night?" + +"One question at a time," he said laughingly. "It seems pretty obvious +that I'm not dead, doesn't it?" + +"It does," I admitted. "But you were dead, or you appeared to be, when I +left you last night." + +"I don't quite understand," he said. "What do you mean?" + +I told him then how I had stumbled across his body on my return the +previous evening, how I had identified him, and, satisfied that he was +dead, had left him to attend to more pressing business. I related how I +had scoured the valley that very morning and failed to find the least +trace of him. What was the explanation of the seeming miracle? I asked. + +"There's nothing miraculous about it," he said. "Last night I must have +been creased, sort of stunned, you know. The bullet didn't go near any +vital part. It just ploughed along the back of my neck and knocked me +unconscious. I suppose I would seem pretty dead to anyone who stumbled +across me. It's not always so easy for a layman to tell whether a man is +really dead or not. However, I remember coming-to just on daylight, and +hearing someone crashing through the bushes. It struck me then that I +didn't know how things had panned out, so I'd better take cover until I +made sure. So when you were hunting for me I was running away from you, +keeping a couple of jumps ahead all the time. I gradually edged round +towards the cave, and was just in time to see a dim figure slip out into +the bushes. I wasn't close enough to see more clearly. Miss Drummond, +you say. Yes, I suppose so; but I didn't know that then. However, as the +cave seemed deserted after that I took possession with the intention of +turning the tables. And then----But you know the rest yourself. How much +further have we got?" + +"Lots," I said. "The others are dead and buried, and I have found the +original site of the hut. Once we locate the lone tree we're right." + +"That should be easy enough," said Moira with a woman's airy assurance. + +Cumshaw watched us both with a queer smile flickering about his lips. + +"What do you think of it, Carstairs?" he said at length. + +"I don't fancy there'll be much difficulty in that," I answered. "It +should be plain sailing from now onwards." + +"It strikes me," he said, "that we're just entering upon the toughest +stretch of the lot. However, the sooner we get to work the better. I +vote we start right away." + +"But, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira protested, "do you think you feel well +enough?" + +"Miss Drummond," he answered, "I've got pains all down my neck, and my +head's humming like a hive of bees, and I've got incipient rheumatics in +every joint in my body from lying all night on the damp ground. It's bad +enough to have all that wrong with me, without being compelled to spend +another day in idleness. No, if I get to work at once I'll feel much +better. Work, you know, is a good soporific." + +"I suppose you know best," she conceded, a little doubtfully. + +"I've been thinking things over," I remarked as we made our way back to +the site of the hut, "and it's just struck me that something I once +heard Bryce say might have some bearing on the matter. The night those +chaps burgled us he said, 'They're up a gum-tree when they should be +under one.' I'm not so sure of the exact words now, but that's the +substance of them anyway." + +"But," Cumshaw objected, "he didn't know as much about the Valley then +as we do now." + +"Quite so," I said. "I never thought he really meant anything by what he +said, but that remark's been running through my head. It seems to me +that everyone right through has been obsessed by the idea of the tree, +and now that it's disappeared we're at a loose end. Everybody, from your +father and Bradby down to Bryce and ourselves, has taken it for granted +that a tree's vital to the solution." + +"Isn't it?" Cumshaw queried quickly. + +I shook my head. "Not in the least," I said. "If the tree was absolutely +necessary it'd mean that we'd have to wait until 3rd or 4th of December, +the day on which Bradby buried the treasure, and the only day of the +year on which the sun, the tree and the threshold of the hut would be in +an exact line. Bryce's idea of having to wait three months must have +been conceived in the belief that the 3rd or 4th June would answer +equally well. It might, but I'm not so sure about it. I guess there'd be +a lot of difference in the declination of the sun. But now the tree's +gone we're left without that seemingly necessary leading mark." + +"What are we going to do about it?" Cumshaw demanded. + +"We can't give up after having gone so far," said Moira. + +"We're not," I told her. "There's a way out of it, and the simplest way +on earth. It's so infernally simple that we've all overlooked it. It +narrows down to a simple problem in geometry. Do you remember what the +cypher said?" + +"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to the previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'" +He rattled through the directions so rapidly that I knew he must have +had them off by heart. + +"That's it," I said, while the others listened in breathless interest. +"Now this is the position to my mind: The line that runs through the +doorway, the tree and the sun must go due east. The sun at that time of +the year would be due east. Well, all we have to do is to cast our east +line, carry it along for seven feet, and then turn so that we are facing +direct north." + +"And at right angles to the previous line," Moira reminded me. + +"It's the same thing," I said. "Direct north runs at right angles to +direct east, if you want to know. However, when we've got our north line +we follow it for twelve feet, and after that we dig. Quite possibly +Bradby made some slight variation--he wouldn't have the necessary +instruments to make his figures absolutely exact--but, as I've said +before, I don't see that we can go very far wrong. Whatever variation +there is won't matter much once we start digging. If we allow a foot or +so in all directions we'll be on the safe side. What do you think, +Cumshaw?" + +"Well," he said slowly, "it sounds feasible enough, and if it turns out +as well in practice as it does in theory I'll have nothing to say +against it." + +"There's only one way of making sure," I said tentatively. + +Moira turned on me. "What's that?" she asked with unfeigned interest. + +"Trying and seeing for ourselves," I answered. "Here we are, right on +the very spot, so why not put it to the test?" + +Neither of them answered. A queer, speculative look crept into Moira's +eyes and Cumshaw paled a little beneath his tan. It was the crucial +moment of the expedition, and the mere adoption of my suggestion meant +that in the next few minutes we would be face to face with either +failure or success--none of us knew which. While we were in ignorance +there was always room for hope, but the instant our investigation was +concluded the matter would be settled for good or for evil. + +"Well," I asked, "what about it?" + +"I suppose we've got to do it some time," Cumshaw said slowly. "We might +as well do it first as last. What do you say, Miss Drummond?" + +"Ye-es," said Moira in a half-whisper. "Ye-es, I suppose we had better." + +"And you, Carstairs?" + +"Nothing venture, nothing win," I quoted gaily. "Anyway it's my +suggestion, and I'm not going to fall down on it. I didn't bring the +spade along just for the fun of carrying it." + +"Go on then," Cumshaw said. + +Then commenced the operation of locating the position of the treasure. +As the one most used to such things I snapped open my pocket-compass, +took a line from the mouldering ruin that had once been the threshold of +the hut, and proceeded to calmly measure off the requisite distance. The +others followed my movements with breathless interest; Cumshaw's cheeks +were still pale, partly from the stress of emotion and partly, I fancy, +because he feared that, even at the last, Fate would play a trick on us +and bring the work of two generations to nothing. Two little red spots +glowed in Moira's cheeks, and in her eyes was an opalescent glow that +spoke of suppressed excitement. I wasn't so carried away by my feelings +as the others were--I had been trained in a rough school, and my +training had taught me at all times to keep an adequate control over my +emotions--but the romance of the adventure and the excitement of the +game had penetrated even my thick skin, and the mere fact that others +hung breathlessly on my movements swayed me a little from the normal. +That streak of vanity which is in all of us came to the surface, as it +does with the best of men at the best of times. + +I didn't see how I could possibly make a mistake, and the only thing +that troubled me was the likelihood of some stray prospector having +stumbled on the hoard by accident. At last I reached the spot where the +north line ended, and then calmly and methodically I took off my coat, +folded it, and laid it on the ground. I rolled up my shirt sleeves and +seized the spade in my hands. The others watched me with apprehensive +eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE ADVENTURE CLOSES. + + +I could hear Moira's quick breaths come and go as I worked, and with +each shovelful of soil I turned Cumshaw craned his head a little further +forward. + +"Three foot, maybe three foot six," Cumshaw said once, in a voice that +was curiously hoarse. The remark puzzled me for a moment, and then in a +flash I recollected that his father had told Bryce that the hole where +the gold was buried would be three feet or three feet six deep at a +guess. + +I went on digging. The hole deepened and widened, and still nothing +appeared. I paused in my work and flung the damp perspiration from my +forehead with a grimy hand. I had been working eagerly, excitedly. + +"I'll take a hand now," Cumshaw offered with surprising alacrity. + +I shook my head and stabbed the spade further into the earth. It struck +something soft which yet offered a remarkable resistance to the progress +of the instrument. And then in an instant I was down on my knees, the +steaming sting of my perspiring face all forgotten in the wild intense +eagerness of my discovery. I flung the spade about like a mad-man, and +my breath came and went through my teeth with a hissing sound like that +of escaping steam. I was mud and muck from head to foot and my hands +were caked with clay, but that did not matter. Nothing mattered save the +one startling fact that I had struck something that answered to the +description of the stuff we were seeking. At last, after seemingly +eternal hours of incredible toil, though in reality it couldn't have +been more than a few seconds, the earth came away, and my spade lay bare +four bags of mouldering leather--four torn and decaying things through +which came the dull golden gleam of minted metal. With a smothered cry +Cumshaw threw himself on the saddle-bags and hugged and clawed them like +a man gone demented. For the moment there came a curious vulpine look +into his face, and then it passed so swiftly that I could have fancied +that it had never been there or anywhere else save in my imagination. + +"We've found it at last," I said, and was surprised to find how thin my +voice had become. It was the first rational word since I had begun to +dig, and it acted on Cumshaw like a douche of cold water. He dropped the +bags as if he had been stung, and climbed out of the hole rather +shamefacedly. + +Moira opened her mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. Ludicrous +as it all looked, it was sufficient to show me just how unbalanced sane +people can become at the sight of gold. The three of us looked at each +other, and then I fancy we all laughed, albeit a little hysterically. + +The rest is soon told. We got the rotting bags out somehow, and portion +of their contents spilled out on the ground, though we didn't mind that +at the time. There was more money in each of the bags than any one of us +had ever handled before. In the light of what happened afterwards I'm +positive that it was Cumshaw who suggested filling up the hole. + +"A good idea," I thought. A gaping hole in the ground might attract the +attention of strangers and lead to further enquiries--the kind of +enquiries that would not be welcomed by us. I had thrown all but the +last shovelful in when Cumshaw drew something from his pocket, looked at +it a moment, and then, with a muttered exclamation, threw it into the +hole and trod it deep into the earth. I got but the one look at it, and +it seemed to me to be an ordinary leather-covered pocket-book. I was on +the point of asking him the meaning of his action when I chanced to +glance up at his face, and what I saw there made me shut my lips down +like a steel trap. I said nothing, and beyond my first natural start of +surprise I don't think I gave myself away at all. + + * * * * * + +It doesn't matter just how much we made out of it. If I were to write +down the exact figures no one would believe them or me; but when I say +that neither Cumshaw nor I--for Moira pooled her share with mine after +all--will have to do a hand's turn again as long as we live, some idea +can be gained of what was in those four decaying saddle-bags. To place +gold, more especially minted coin, in circulation in this year of grace +one thousand nine hundred and twenty requires more ingenuity than most +men are possessed of, and frankly I could see no way out of it for many +a long day. But in the end I struck an unexpected solution. What that +solution was is neither here nor there: the expedients I resorted to +would, if written down, fill a longer and perhaps a more exciting volume +than this. Some day, when old age is creeping on me and the good opinion +of my neighbours has almost ceased to matter, I may tell the tale in its +entirety. + +As we had no desire to attract more attention than we could help we did +not attempt to take the gold along with us. Instead we buried it in a +secluded spot not far from the railway, and a week or so later Cumshaw +and I returned in the car for it. + + * * * * * + +"I wonder," I said, "how those chaps managed to find out so much about +everything? Of course they were paralleling Bryce's investigations, but +that doesn't explain all; they knew more about some things than he did +himself." + +We were sitting round the fire one evening a month or so later. Moira +and I had just returned from our honeymoon, and Cumshaw had dropped in +with the news that his father was in the hands of a noted alienist who +hoped in time to completely cure the old man. The announcement had set +us talking about our recent experiences, and _apropos_ of them I had +uttered the above remark. + +"I've often wondered," Moira said, "how they first learnt about the +treasure." + +There was silence for a space and then Cumshaw spoke. "I rather fancy," +he said, "that they knew about its existence long before Mr. Bryce did." + +Moira shot a startled glance at him and I said, "Whatever do you mean?" + +"You remember that pocket-book I threw into the trench the day we found +the treasure?" + +I nodded. "Yes," said Moira breathlessly. + +"I found that in the grass early in the morning before I went up to the +cave. It was a diary belonging to a man named Alick Blane. I didn't read +it right through--I didn't have the time for one thing--but what I did +see told me all I wanted to know. I buried it in the trench because I +did not want what was written in the book to be published to the world. +It was one of those things that are better kept out of sight and +circulation." + +"But what was it?" I queried. + +He looked at us a moment as if debating with himself whether or not to +tell us. + +"Alick Blane's father was the trooper who shot Bradby," he said, and +left us to imagine all the rest. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Valley, by J. M. 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Walsh. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Valley, by J. M. Walsh + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lost Valley + +Author: J. M. Walsh + +Release Date: September 2, 2006 [EBook #19162] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST VALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Michael Ciesielski, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1><span class="smcap">The Lost Valley</span></h1> + +<h2>By J. M. WALSH</h2> + +<h3>1921</h3> + +<h4>The C. J. DeGARIS PUBLISHING HOUSE<br /> +MELBOURNE</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#PART_I">PART I. THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_I">Chapter I.—The Adventure on the Sands</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_II">Chapter II.—An Old Friend</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_III">Chapter III.—The Strange Behaviour of Mr. Bryce</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IV">Chapter IV.—The Thief in the Night</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_V">Chapter V.—Circumstantial Evidence</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VI">Chapter VI.—I Tell a Lie</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VII">Chapter VII.—Introducing Mr. Albert Cumshaw</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#PART_II">PART II. THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_Ia">Chapter I.—Nightfall</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IIa">Chapter II.—The Pursuit</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IIIa">Chapter III.—The Hidden Valley</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IVa">Chapter IV.—When Thieves Fall Out</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_Va">Chapter V.—Expiation</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VIa">Chapter VI.—The Hegira of Mr. Abel Cumshaw</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VIIIa">Chapter VIII.—The Gathering of the Eagles</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#PART_III">PART III THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_Ib">Chapter I.—The Cypher</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IIb">Chapter II.—Over the Hills and Far Away</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IIIb">Chapter III.—The Promised Land</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_IVb">Chapter IV.—We Enter the Valley</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_Vb">Chapter V.—Dies Irae</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VIb">Chapter VI.—The Solution</a><br /> +<a href="#Chapter_VIIb">Chapter VII.—The Adventure Closes</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I.</h2> + +<h3><i>THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE.</i></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_I" id="Chapter_I"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> I.</h2> + +<h3>THE ADVENTURE ON THE SANDS.</h3> + + +<p>I came upon the place quite unexpectedly. Centuries of wind and wave had +carved a little nook out of the foot of the cliff and fashioned it so +cunningly that I did not see it until I was right on top of it. After +the warmth of the open beach and the glare of the white road I had +recently travelled its shade looked so inviting that I limped in under +the overhang of the cliff and dropped joyfully on to the cool patch of +sand. It was the first moment of contentment I had known for many weary +months, and, needless to say, I set myself out to make the most of it. I +was absolutely sick of tramping about. My left boot had burst and, by +the feel of it, there wasn't too much left of my right sole. I had been +crawling along the road since daylight—and for many days before for +that matter—searching for a job that failed to materialise.</p> + +<p>Jobs, it appeared, were just about as scarce as cool spots in Hades. +They had been very kind to me at the last farmhouse. The good lady had +given me an excellent breakfast and an extra glass of milk, had loaded +my bedraggled pockets with food and had finally put me on the road to +the sea. Work, she said, they could not give me. They had put off two +men the previous day. I might find something to do in the next town. She +did tell me what it was called, but my thoughts were on my own poor +prospects and I didn't quite catch what she said. On the principle that +a rose by any other name would still have its thorns, I didn't ask her +to repeat it. I just said, "Thank you, ma'am," in my best tramp manner +and set off down the road to the sea. On the way my left boot burst and +a pebble worked in through the opening and set me limping. To make +matters worse the day was perhaps the hottest of all that memorable +summer, and the glare from the white grit of the road played the devil +with my eyes. I was very pleased when at length I reached the low sand +dunes and dropped between them on to the wet sand of the beach. I walked +along this aimlessly for a mile or so until the big hump of the bluff +rose up over me. Then, as I have already related, I came across that +heaven-sent cave and threw my weary length on its damp flooring of sand, +determined to snatch as much peace and repose as I could before I +continued my search for work.</p> + +<p>I can't say for the life of me how long it was before I first sat up and +took notice of the fat little man. He was bobbing up and down in the +surf for all the world like some ungainly porpoise, and every time he +moved he shot sunlit streams of water off his gross body. I've seen fat +men in my time, but this one was just about the limit. He was all up and +down and then across. I know that doesn't quite explain what he looked +like, but it's about the only way I can describe him. He was short and +tubby; if he had been any shorter he would have been a human +Humpty-Dumpty. He was so obviously enjoying himself and getting the best +out of his gambols in the water that my heart went out to him. He was +ducking and splashing about, rolling and wallowing in a way that +reminded me of a hippopotamus I had once shot at—and missed—in happier +if not more spacious days spent on the lower Nile. "The Hippo" I +christened him, and then chuckled to myself at the singular +appropriateness of the name.</p> + +<p>Even his bathing dress seemed designed expressly to add to his +rotundity. It was one of those queer garments bearing a faint +resemblance to a convict's uniform, and the wide stripes of it went +round and round his figure like hoops on a barrel. It was so funny that +I chuckled again and forgot all about my burning feet and my burst boot.</p> + +<p>Presently he stopped his antics and looked over my way. He gave one +glance at me, and then started to run inshore with short, jumpy little +steps. Something seemed to have struck him all of a sudden, and I was +just beginning to wonder what the deuce it could be when, out of the +corner of my eyes, I caught sight of a pile of neatly folded clothes +thrust into the cleft of the rock a little above my head. I began to +understand then. I looked more disreputable than I really was; my suit +was in the last stages of ruinous decay, while his brand-new clothes +just above me would have been a gift from the gods to a man with less +conscience and more figure than I possessed. He evidently presumed on +the strength of my proximity that I had evil designs on his clothes, but +he needn't have troubled himself. If I could judge anything from his own +figure I would have been completely lost in them. I didn't like to +confirm his suspicions by running away now that I found I was observed, +so I just sat there and waited for him. There was a piece of something +that looked very like driftwood protruding from the sand close to me, +and I kicked idly at it as he came pounding up the beach. It was set +loosely in the sand, and a more accurate kick than usual knocked it out +of its resting-place. Something queer about it caught my eye, and I bent +over to pick it up.</p> + +<p>"Whatever else it is, it isn't driftwood," I said to myself. "I'll +bet——," and then I stopped short, for I remembered that my sole +worldly wealth at the moment consisted of exactly three pennies. All the +same I was right about it. Driftwood doesn't get the dry rot, nor does +it come ashore covered with rich black loam.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's planted it here," was my next thought, and my mind strayed +to the panting bulk of a man who was thundering down on top of me.</p> + +<p>"It's his, I suppose," I said, and looked up at him. At that precise +instant he tripped and fell full length on the sand. I've seen a good +many lucky escapes in my day—a man who has travelled the out-of-the-way +places of the world from the Yukon and the White Nile down to the +headwaters of the Fly River in the snow-mountains of Dutch New Guinea +does see a bit of life—but the way that fat chap upset himself into the +sand was the most wonderful piece of good fortune I ever came across. He +must have missed death by a fraction of an inch. I saw him fall, heard +the shot ring out and watched the sand spurt up all in the one crowded +second. The next moment I was running towards him, my hand moving +instinctively to my empty pistol-pocket. But my mind readjusted itself +in a flash, and I recollected that I wasn't dodging cannibals in the +upper reaches of the Mambare, but was living in a civilised country +where a man who carries a revolver, and gets caught at it, is fined more +money than I'd seen in the last twelve months.</p> + +<p>The other chap seemed to divine instinctively that I was a friend, for +he yelled at me even while he was hauling himself up from the sand.</p> + +<p>"There's one in my pocket," he shouted and gesticulated back towards his +clothes.</p> + +<p>I didn't waste a moment, but sped over the intervening yards like a man +possessed. As luck would have it his coat was the first thing I grabbed, +and the weight of it told me at once in which pocket to look. I plunged +my hand in and drew out the sweetest little automatic it has ever been +my lot to handle. As a rule I prefer a Colt—in my experience it never +jams—but I rather fancied my present weapon would do all that was +required, so I slipped back the safety catch with my thumb and whirled +round on my heel to face whatever was coming.</p> + +<p>The overture was already over and the invisible marksman had settled +down to steady firing. The fat man was now almost on top of me, and I +saw instantly that that brought me right into the line of fire. It takes +a long time in the telling, but, as I figured it out afterwards, from +the instant the first shot missed the old chap down to the moment I +pulled the trigger, more than half a minute could not have elapsed.</p> + +<p>There was only one place in sight where a man could take cover, and that +was a bunch of rocks just a little to the left of my position. I let off +a fancy shot in that direction, and a second later the reply rang out. +The cliff overhead shed a shower of dust on top of the pair of us, and +the fat man crouched into the corner. I knew now where my man was, so I +waited until he exposed himself, as I saw he must do when he fired +again.</p> + +<p>"Gimme the gun!" the fat man demanded in the interval.</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" I said, without turning my head. "I'm a better shot than you, +I reckon, and, anyway, it's just as much my funeral now as yours. He's +had a shot at me, and that's a thing I don't forgive in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Well, of all the——," I heard him say, and then the rest of his remark +was drowned in the report of my weapon. I had spotted a white wrist back +of a gleam of polished metal and, taking a sporting chance, I let drive. +The other man's gun dropped to the sand, and a yell told me that I had +made no mistake.</p> + +<p>"Here's where I come in," I said, and, forgetting the condition of my +feet, I sprinted towards the rocks. But the other fellow had decided +that the place was getting too hot for him, and he made off along the +sand as fast as his legs could carry him. He must have been in excellent +trim, for he shot along the heavy track as if he was running on the +cinder-path, and I saw before I had gone fifty yards that I hadn't a +chance in the world of catching him. Also there were half a dozen black +specks of men a mile or so along the beach, and my reason told me that +homicide before witnesses wasn't likely to prove a healthy pastime. So I +swallowed my pride and, consoling myself with the thought that some day +we might meet again, I wheeled about and made back to the nook.</p> + +<p>The fat chap had shed his bathing suit and was climbing into his clothes +when I arrived. He beamed at me and his whole face crinkled into smiles. +I was so afraid that he was going to make a silly speech that I pushed +his automatic into his hands and said, "You'd better take this, old man. +The other party's in swift retreat and, from the condition of his wrist, +I don't fancy you'll receive another billet-doux for some time to come."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm hanged if you're not the coolest chap I've ever laid eyes +on," the fat man said admiringly.</p> + +<p>"You were nearer being shot," I hinted, "and, if you don't mind me +saying so, the sooner you struggle into those clothes of yours and get +home to mother, the safer you'll be. I don't object to fighting for you +once in a while, but I'll see you further before I make a habit of it."</p> + +<p>"Um!" said the fat man, "I'm sorry. I'd hoped to persuade you to take it +on permanently."</p> + +<p>I thought at first that he was joking, but the way he looked at me +showed that he was in deadly earnest. For all his flippancy there was +something back of his eyes, a trace of fear that kept peeping out every +now and then, that told me he went in danger of his life. I hated to +have to refuse him, but I had very good reasons, which I intended to +keep to myself, too, for not putting my life into danger too often. So I +told him point-blank that if he wanted to hire a bodyguard he'd have to +go somewhere else. He wasn't as put out at my reply as I would have +expected. Instead he smiled up at me—for all his bulk I towered over +him—and there was a touch of gameness in that smile that I rather +liked. I couldn't help telling him just what I thought.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you want anyone to look after you," I said. "You're as +game as they make 'em. I'm pretty used to reading men—I've been in +places where my life depended on my ability in that direction—and when +I see a fellow smile like you're smiling now, you can take it from me +that he's grit all through."</p> + +<p>"They'll get me yet," he said with a sigh. "I'm handicapped, you see. I +couldn't have sprinted along the beach the way you did. I'd have +wheezed. Bellows gone and all that, you know. Too much fat, the doctor +says."</p> + +<p>"Now, you're just about right there. I don't like to be personal, but +now you mention it, you don't seem to have the cut of an athlete."</p> + +<p>"And you have," he said, as he insinuated himself into his collar. It +was a trifle too small for his neck, and he had to coax it a lot before +he got both ends to meet. "You're the type of man I take to instantly, +Mr. ——."</p> + +<p>He asked me a question with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said in answer, "if it's any use to you my name's Carstairs, +Jimmy Carstairs at that, and I'm an explorer by inclination, gentleman +by instinct, and the rolling-stone-that-gathers-no-moss by sheer force +of unlovely circumstance. Now you know all that I intend to tell you +about myself."</p> + +<p>"Um!" he said again. "I had better introduce myself, I suppose. I fancy +my card-case's in my coat pocket."</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble about a card," I said airily. "I'm not at all fussy. I'm +quite willing to take your word for it."</p> + +<p>There was a twinkle in his eye, as he replied, that showed he rather +appreciated my cheap wit. "Bryce is my name," he said. "You may have +heard of it?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say I have," I told him, "though I'm pretty certain to see it +often if you make a practice of keeping up this guerilla warfare."</p> + +<p>It wasn't a nice thing to say, but then I'm never very particular, and +if my listeners don't like my remarks they're always welcome to change +the subject. When all's said and done there was more in that last jab of +mine than met the ear. I wanted very much to know why that sharpshooter +should be so extremely anxious to put him out of action. Also he had +said "they." There had only been one man behind the rocks, and I could +have sworn on a stack of Bibles that there wasn't another human +being—with the sole exception of the men a mile or so along the +beach—within coo-ee at the time. "You've been there before, my friend," +I thought. "This isn't the first time you've flushed a chap with a bit +of hardware." From what I could see Bryce hadn't the slightest intention +of making me as wise as himself and even the broad hint I gave him +didn't seem to move him in the least. He surveyed me steadily for the +scrag-end of a minute and then his left eyelid flickered. I knew right +enough what that wink meant. It said as plainly as could be that dead +men tell no tales and wise men follow their example.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Bryce," I said, "I like your company and it pains me to leave +you, but I can't stop here for ever. I've got an important engagement at +the next town and the sooner I get there the better. Under the +circumstances you'll have to excuse me."</p> + +<p>He didn't tell me that I was a liar but he went pretty close to it. "The +next town's Geelong," he said, "and it's a good fourteen miles away. You +might have sprinted along that sand in record time when somebody's life +was trembling in the balance, but that doesn't say you can walk fourteen +miles on a rotten road on a broiling hot day. And if I wished to be as +personal as you are I'd point out that a burst boot doesn't help make +the way any easier."</p> + +<p>"Bowled out first shot," I told him. "What's your little game?"</p> + +<p>"To use your own inimitable phraseology, my little game amounts to this. +I've taken a violent fancy to you, Carstairs, and I want to keep you by +me. I don't think your luck's been too good lately, but between us I +fancy we can mend it. If you want to go into Geelong all you've got to +do is wait and come with me. I'm going back shortly, and I'm sure you'd +feel much better riding in a motor than travelling on foot."</p> + +<p>"Now you mention it," I said, "I can't see why I shouldn't. The only +trouble is that some of your excitable friends might see me in your +company and include me in the sudden-death stakes."</p> + +<p>"Quite likely," Bryce said, with a smile. "I wouldn't be at all +surprised if they hid behind a convenient hedge and potted us as we +passed. But you needn't come if that's what you're afraid of."</p> + +<p>"I'll forgive you this time," I rattled on, "just because you've had +such an exciting experience, but don't ever hint anything like that +again. I don't know what fear's like."</p> + +<p>"Self-praise," said Bryce, "is sometimes the highest form of +recommendation. At any rate it shows you've overcome fear, if only the +fear of criticism. But to be serious, Carstairs, there's trouble ahead +of both of us. My pursuers are getting very game, tackling me in front +of a third person, and I've got a funny sort of feeling that they'll +catch me napping one of these days. No matter what you say or do, you +can't alter the fact that you've identified yourself with me, and that +means that you're running just the same amount of danger that I am. You +don't look too prosperous yourself. What about joining forces with me +and sharing the plunder? Of course I can make it worth your while."</p> + +<p>"Plunder," I said. "What do you mean! Are you running up against the +law?"</p> + +<p>"If it's any relief to you to know it, I'm not. I rather fancy I've got +the law on my side."</p> + +<p>"I was merely enquiring what inducements you had to offer. What do you +call 'making it worth my while?'"</p> + +<p>When I turned down his first tentative offer I had quite made up my mind +that he wanted to engage me as a sort of super-butler with sudden death +included amongst the risks of service, and I had no intention of mixing +up in other people's quarrels on such terms. When I questioned him +directly about it I got a pleasant surprise.</p> + +<p>"Well, my idea of making it worth your while is something like £100 for +three months. That's about as long as I'll require you. After that you +can 'go to hell or to Connaught,' whichever you prefer."</p> + +<p>"That's nice hearing," I told him. "And, I suppose, any time I take an +extra risk I get something <i>pour boire</i>?"</p> + +<p>He nodded cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"That's my offer, Carstairs," he said. "What do you say to it?"</p> + +<p>"It's so damned alluring," I answered, "that I'm frightened to look at +it too close. I don't mind admitting that I'm about as hard up as I can +be. As a matter of fact I've not the least idea where I'm going to get +my next meal. All of which makes your offer doubly inviting. But I don't +want to jump at it in hot blood. I want time to think it over. I want to +stand off and wave my hat at it and say, 'Scat, you brute!' and see if +it'll shoo off. I'm frightened that it's not real, and that I'll take it +on and then wake up. Will you give me time to wake up?"</p> + +<p>"If you'll drive in with me the two of us can dine together," Bryce +suggested. "That ought to give you time to wake up."</p> + +<p>"I can't ask anything fairer than that," I agreed. "When do we start?"</p> + +<p>"No time like the present. I've got the car paddocked down near the +reserve. It's only a matter of walking around the bluff. Come on."</p> + +<p>I went along with him without comment, though I noticed that the last +thing he did was to bend down and pick up the piece of wood which had so +excited my curiosity earlier in the proceedings. It was small enough to +slip into his pocket, and this he did without a word either of apology +or explanation.</p> + +<p>"It's a mighty innocent piece of wood," I thought, "but I'll bet all +Australia to an albatross that it's mixed up in the plot."</p> + +<p>As we moved around the foot of the bluff I couldn't help turning the +situation over in my mind. Half an hour before I had been a wanderer on +the face of the earth, a man with no special abilities and no +outstanding vices. In that short space of time I had saved one man's +life, nearly taken that of another, and seemed in a fair way to make +money out of my twin attributes of steady nerves and good shooting. I +was still thinking in this strain when we rounded the bluff and +commenced to crawl across the intervening stretch of spinifex grass. I +say "crawl" advisedly. Bryce was far too heavy to do more than lumber +along and my feet were steadily getting worse. The spinifex grew +knee-high and its roots extended in all directions. They were hard, +knobby things that protruded through the loose sand, and every time I +took my attention off the ground for an instant I stubbed my toe against +one or the other of them. Bryce panted and puffed and wheezed and seemed +more like an hippopotamus than ever. Whatever might be the gain as far +as decency was concerned, his clothes, from a spectacular point of view, +made him look worse than ever. His collar was tight, and that made his +face the color of a scraped carrot, and his coat and trousers clung to +him in the most unexpected places—just where they shouldn't.</p> + +<p>To make a long story short, we came at last to the edge of the spinifex, +and thence dropped steadily down into the hollow that contained the +reserve. I picked out Bryce's car right off. It was painted a battleship +grey, and if cars can have a personality, this had such another as its +owner. It wasn't slim—there was nothing of the racer about it. It was +squatly built and had just the same heavy and humorous look as Bryce +himself. It stood out from the other cars like a hunch-back amongst a +line of athletes.</p> + +<p>"That's my car," said Bryce proudly. "She's not much to look at, but +she's just the sweetest runner you've seen."</p> + +<p>I nodded. I was quite open to conviction.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_II" id="Chapter_II"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> II.</h2> + +<h3>AN OLD FRIEND.</h3> + + +<p>Hitherto events had moved so swiftly that I hadn't had time to look +calmly at the situation, but once we settled down in the car and Barwon +Heads dropped into the dust behind us, I began to think rather +seriously. It was perfectly obvious, even to a more clouded intelligence +than mine, that there was something mysterious, if not shady, about my +prospective employer. Despite his assurance that the law was on his +side, I had grave doubts. If everything was perfectly square and above +board why the deuce didn't he report the affair to the police and give +them the task of looking after him, instead of hiring me at an +exorbitant wage? He seemed anxious to fight shy of publicity in any +shape or form and, though he had been very cordial, even familiar with +me, his very apparent frankness and joviality had awakened my +suspicions. There was something fishy going on, and that something, +whatever it was, centred round the piece of wood that I had so casually +kicked out of the sand. It struck me all of a heap that nothing had +really begun to happen until I had unearthed it. As soon as Bryce had +seen where I was sitting, he had started to run inshore, the other man +had stationed himself behind the rocks, the curtain had been rung up and +the play had begun. Now the question was what part did the piece of wood +play in the game? Bryce, I felt sure, could clear the mystery up with a +word, but I was certain that it would be long before he would say that +word.</p> + +<p>The car was all and more than he had said. It had speed, it was +comfortable, and its mechanism was far less complicated than any I had +yet seen. We ate up distance in fine style. Bryce seemed to have no +nerves at all, for more than once he tore round corners on two wheels +while I clung to the side of the car and swore at him. He grinned +cheerfully over his shoulder at me and asked me if I were nervous.</p> + +<p>I laughed back at him with as much <i>sang-froid</i> as I could muster. I had +no objection to risking my life once in a while when there was good pay +at the end of it, but I couldn't see the sense of tempting Providence +just for the sheer fun of the thing. Of course, if we did spill, it +would be all right with Bryce—he was so fat that he'd just bounce—but +I was slimmer, and I knew from experience that I had very brittle bones. +Once in the Solomons, when a wild boar charged me, I lay for weeks in a +trader's hut waiting for an obdurate fracture to knit up again. Some +idea of the furious pace at which Bryce pushed the car along can be +guessed from the fact that we did the fourteen miles in something over +twenty minutes. It had been quite half-past eleven when we left the +Heads, and the clock in the car wanted a few minutes to twelve when we +sailed over the bridge and up Moorabool-street. We cleared a stationary +tram by inches, twisted in an S curve to avoid a farmer's waggon and +then, with a heart-rending grind, Bryce threw over his clutch and slowed +down to a snail-like crawl of ten miles an hour.</p> + +<p>"This asphalt paving makes a great motor track," Bryce said to me, "but +there's speed-laws in existence here. That's the trouble of it. When a +man has a nice track he's interfered with, and when there isn't anyone +to meddle with him it's ten to one that he's crawling over something +like a corduroy road."</p> + +<p>"Corduroy!" I said, and sat up and looked at him. I knew what he meant. +Any man who has ever travelled the heart-breaking log-roads of the +interior New Guinea goldfields does not need to be told what 'corduroy' +is. It is an ever-present memory, an astonishment and a nightmare. Bryce +did not speak from hearsay—the note in his voice told me that—but was +talking from experience garnered at great cost, both of money and +energy.</p> + +<p>"Corduroy," he repeated after me. "Doesn't that sound familiar to you, +Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"It does," I said with emphasis. "But how the deuce——?" And then I +stopped dead. Bryce? Bryce? What was familiar about that name? Bryce and +New Guinea and——. I had it. And Walter Carstairs.</p> + +<p>"Ever heard of Walter Carstairs?" I questioned.</p> + +<p>"The minute I heard your name I knew you," Bryce said. "Ever heard of +Walter Carstairs? Why, he was the best friend I ever had. He saved my +life in the early days of the Woodlarks."</p> + +<p>"According to the Dad," I said, looking him straight in the face, "it +was the other way about."</p> + +<p>He laughed happily. "Jimmy, I'm losing my memory if that's so. But +whatever happened to him? I lost sight of him the last ten years or so."</p> + +<p>"You would," I answered. "He stuck to the Islands. He had a life's work +planned out, but he got cut-off in the Solomons before he had reached +finality. I carried it on after that, came all the way from the Klondyke +to take it up. I got through but it took every penny I had, and that's +why this morning when I came across you I only had a boot and a half to +my feet."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said kindly, "that's all changed now."</p> + +<p>"I don't know so much about it," I told him. "You might have been the +best friend the Dad ever had, but that doesn't say you're going to keep +me. What I get I work for. I'll take charity from no man living."</p> + +<p>Again he laughed, and his fat face crinkled up into little rolls of +flesh until he looked as if he had double chins all the way up to his +eyes. I knew now why he had been so familiar with me earlier in the day. +He was a sunny-natured old chap always, even in the hard, toilsome New +Guinea days, and I suppose his heart went out to me as the son of an old +comrade in arms, doubly so—perhaps because I had saved his life. On the +whole I rather wished I hadn't. It complicated matters so. It made me +feel bound to give him a hand, whether his enterprise was shady or not.</p> + +<p>If he had turned to me then and said, "I suppose I can count on you all +right?" I would have been torn between duty and inclination. He did +nothing of the sort. He made no reference to his offer of service, in +fact he seemed to have completely forgotten it, and I thought it just as +well to say nothing. The way he forebore from seizing a perfectly +obvious advantage sent him up fifty per cent. in my estimation, and by +the time we had reached the heart of the city I was quite willing to do +anything he asked me.</p> + +<p>"I'll park the car," he said, "and then we'll go off and have some +dinner."</p> + +<p>"Will we?" I said and eyed my tattered raiment ruefully. "I don't fancy +I'm dressed for dinner."</p> + +<p>"Um!" he said. "You're not. I'd quite overlooked that. That bars a +public dinner. I don't fancy you'll be able to make much of one if you +come down to my place. The cook's away. I didn't expect to be back so +soon."</p> + +<p>"Cook or no cook," I told him, "if you've got anything eatable in the +house I'll guarantee to turn it up right. Give me the run of the kitchen +and put me next to the meat-safe, and you'll see wonders. I don't know +how you feel, but I'm so hungry that I'd make a meal off a pair of kid +boots."</p> + +<p>"In that case, Carstairs, I think I'd better take you home and see what +sort of a culinary expert you are."</p> + +<p>With that he twisted the car about and headed out for the eastern +suburbs. The place was unfamiliar to me at the time—I hadn't the +faintest idea of the street the man lived in—and in the face of what +happened later I made no enquiries. As a matter of fact the rush of +events crowded all such petty details out of my mind.</p> + +<p>"Can you drive a car?" he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I can drive anything but an Andean mule," I told him. "I tried once in +the Chilian foot-hills, but after the animal dislocated my shoulder I +sort of lost heart."</p> + +<p>"I gather from the retiring modesty of your last remark," he smiled, +"that you consider yourself an expert as regards all other forms of +animal and mechanical traction."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. I can always do anything on principle, and I've yet to meet +the job that I'm unwilling to tackle!"</p> + +<p>He glanced sideways at me. I didn't like the look he gave me. There was +too much of appraisement in it, something that was alien to the nature +of the man, a sort of cold, calculating shrewdness that made me wonder +again if I had not been mistaken in my estimate of him and the extent of +his good-nature.</p> + +<p>"If you keep on admiring me instead of looking where you're going," I +hinted, "you'll end up in a funeral. That motor-bus isn't the sort of +thing I'd care to hit."</p> + +<p>He twisted the wheel over a fraction and edged out beyond the motor-bus +before he replied. "Life is full of thrills," he remarked when at last +we reached the comparative security of open space. There was a challenge +in his voice that I thought it well to ignore.</p> + +<p>"It is," I agreed. "Too much so."</p> + +<p>For all the lightness of his speech and the careless ease with which he +took unnecessary and avoidable risks I had a feeling that there was deep +design under everything he did. Though I couldn't have proved it if I'd +been asked, I felt sure that he was trying my nerve. After all there's +no better test of that than the crowded traffic of a big city. I've met +men who'd cheerfully face a crowd of howling cannibals and yet would +develop a very bad case of jumps if asked to cross a street roaring and +humming with traffic. Yes, clearly he was testing me.</p> + +<p>With a jerk that nearly shot me out of my seat the car pulled up. I +stared about me. We had stopped outside a substantial red-tiled house, +built in the bungalow fashion. There was a well-kept lawn in front of +it, with here and there a trim flower-bed to relieve the monotony of the +expanse of grass.</p> + +<p>"This is the place," Bryce said. "Just slip down and open that gate, +will you?"</p> + +<p>He gesticulated towards a six-foot gate at the side of the house. From +my position in the car I could see that it opened on a path that ran +round the side of the building and almost certainly led to the garage. +Accordingly I slipped out on the road, walked up to the gate and found +that, by standing on tip-toe, I could just reach the catch at the top. I +swung it back, pushed with my weight against the erection and the gate +came open.</p> + +<p>As I turned to come back to the car I caught sight of a man standing on +the opposite corner. He was engaged in lighting a cigarette in the cup +of his hands. He seemed to be taking an undue time over it, and that and +something that I could not put a name to in his attitude convinced me +that he was watching us. His hands were so cupped that they hid his +face, but I received an impression, that was almost a certainty, that he +was watching Bryce and myself through his fingers. Perhaps my prolonged +stare convinced him that I was fully aware of his presence and its +meaning. At any rate he twisted on his heel so that his back was turned +to us, dropped the match he had been playing with and ostentatiously +struck another.</p> + +<p>"That gentleman across the road, the one with his back to us, is keeping +your house under surveillance," I said to Bryce. "I suppose he's afraid +the place'll run away."</p> + +<p>"Afraid I'll run away, more likely," Bryce answered. "Evidently he +doesn't want to be identified next time we meet. But he needn't worry +over that; I wouldn't know him from a bar of soap. We'll leave him alone +for the time being, Carstairs, and get this machine in. I don't see any +reason why we should let this gentleman delay our dinner."</p> + +<p>"No more do I. Let her out."</p> + +<p>I stood on the step of the car until it had passed the entrance in +safety, then I went back and made the gate fast. But before doing so I +just couldn't resist taking a peep at the Roman sentry figure of a man +opposite. He was staring straight at the gate—as if that was going to +help him in any way—but he was pretty alert. The moment he sighted me +he wheeled about and walked off in another direction. But, quick and all +as he was, I caught a passing glimpse of him. He had on a blue serge +suit, a rather cheap affair as well as I could judge at that distance, +and a black felt hat. Somehow I got the impression, though I was too far +away to say anything with certainty, that he was not so much sallow as +sunburnt. It was more than likely that he had not got a good look at +me—in that case he would not know me again, as I flattered myself that +there was nothing very distinctive about me. Still, as that marksman +behind the rocks must have been taking stock of me for some considerable +while, I realised that no definite advantage would accrue from the fact +that one of the gang might not be able to identify me. I had no means of +ascertaining how many there were in the organisation, and something +warned me not to display too much interest in Bryce's presence. When I +walked down the path and discovered him backing the car into his garage +I made no comment on the situation beyond telling him that the spy had +gone temporarily out of business and was at present taking a +constitutional down the street.</p> + +<p>"All we can do then," Bryce said, "is to let him depart in peace and +trust that nothing happens. I wouldn't like any of that bunch to be cut +off in the midst of their sins. I've got another end mapped out for +them."</p> + +<p>"If you figure me in on that, you're mighty mistaken," I said to myself. +"I'm the first line of defence, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to carry +the war into the enemy's country."</p> + +<p>I needn't have been so cocksure about it, for as will shortly be related +that was just exactly what I did do.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_III" id="Chapter_III"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> III.</h2> + +<h3>THE STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF MR. BRYCE.</h3> + + +<p>I made an excellent dinner. Bryce's kitchen and the meat-safes attached +proved on investigation to contain enough food for a family. First of +all I had a wash, and then when I felt a little more presentable, I dug +up a frying-pan, asked Bryce if he liked sausages and, being told that +he did, thanked Heaven that his tastes were similar to mine and set +about cooking them. Now I like my sausages fried nice and crisp, but I +have yet to find the lodging-house keeper this side of Gehenna who can +fry anything without burning it to a cinder. Though I don't wish to +crack up my own work, I'll say this for it—that, if I do like things +done any particular way, I can always be sure of pleasing myself if I do +the cooking.</p> + +<p>I cooked with one eye on the gas-stove and the other on Bryce. I had +scarcely set to work before he wandered into the kitchen, found the +nail-brush or whatever it was that the cook used for cleaning the pots, +washed the black loam off the piece of wood which had so excited my +curiosity earlier in the day, and then commenced to scrub it. He used up +an inordinate amount of soap and quite a lot of elbow-grease, but when +he had finished the wood looked as if it had just been newly cut and +trimmed. What took my attention about it was that it was covered from +end to end with queer little marks or scratches. These seemed to +interest Bryce very much, for he pored over them like an antiquary who +has discovered a new kind of hieroglyphics. He got so interested in them +that he forgot my presence altogether. Once when I asked him some simple +question about the dinner he jumped as if he were shot, colored up and +then said, "Oh, I beg your pardon. What did you say?"</p> + +<p>I repeated my question and he answered me as if his thoughts were miles +away. He was wide-awake enough when I walked over to the kitchen sink on +some errand or another to slip the wood into his pocket and face me with +a look in his eye that said as plainly as so many words, "You're not +going to steal a march on me, my lad. That's for my eyes alone." Only +once during the dinner-hour did he say anything that stuck in my memory. +On this occasion he turned to me and asked, "Can you use a typewriter?"</p> + +<p>"Now, he's going to make a private secretary of me," I thought. "I won't +bite." So I looked him straight in the eye and unblushingly answered +that I couldn't use one if I tried and hoped he didn't want me to learn, +as I was sure I'd only make a mess of it. He seemed rather relieved at +that and later in the afternoon, when I heard the "tick-tack" of his +machine drifting out from the room in which he had locked himself, I +began to wonder just what he had been driving at.</p> + +<p>He drifted out to the kitchen later on and asked me to light the fire +for him. I did so and he watched it blaze up, and as soon as he was sure +that it was well alight he drew that inevitable piece of wood from his +pocket, soaked it in kerosene and dropped it into the heart of the fire. +I'm hanged if he didn't sit there and watch it until it had burnt into a +charred heap of ashes. While he had been attending to it he had left a +sheet of typewritten paper down on the table and as he turned to get it +it fluttered to the floor. I was the nearer to it so I picked it up and +handed it to him. As I did so I caught a glimpse of the characters that +covered most of it. I got just the one look at them, but one line I +noticed ran somehow like this—</p> + +<p>—3¼½743 ½3:3; "335 "49—5@3 3¼½534; 3; £</p> + +<p>He looked at me queerly as he took the paper. "Have you ever done any +timber measurements?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"None at all," I answered promptly, and this time I told the truth.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't understand this then," he ran on, indicating the paper, +though he was careful not to let me have another look at it.</p> + +<p>"I saw some of it," I said off-handedly, as if it were no affair of +mine, "and it looked to me like the sort of thing a mathematician would +see if he ever got the willies."</p> + +<p>"You have a most expressive way of putting things, Carstairs," he said +with a smile. There was more than humor in that smile; there was +something in it that looked remarkably like relief.</p> + +<p>"I can't stand figures of any sort," I volunteered with a fervent hope +in my heart that I wasn't over-doing my part. "A sheet of them'd just +about give me the D.Ts."</p> + +<p>He laughed out loud at that and then, expressing a hope that I would +make myself at home, he padded out of the room. It was astonishing how +quietly he could walk when he was moving about the house. For all his +gross bulk there was something furtive and cat-like about him that told +me just how insistent must be the menace of a sudden death. He moved so +silently that I never knew he was there until I looked up and saw him. +He glided from room to room like some obese ghost. At first it got on my +nerves, but pretty soon I settled down to it, and in a day or so got +quite used to seeing a silent bulk sliding noiselessly about the house, +appearing at all sorts of odd times in all sorts of queer places.</p> + +<p>The cook returned about 5 o'clock and seemed rather inclined to take up +a high-handed attitude with me, until a few well-chosen words from her +master quietened her down a little. She was not slow to show me in other +ways that she regarded me as an intruder in the house, and if any one +thing about me was more preferable than another it was my room rather +than my company. Still as I kept out of her way as much as possible, and +as my sole duties consisted in keeping an eye on all strangers that +approached the place and in listening for any unaccountable sounds, I +came into conflict with her very seldom.</p> + +<p>Matters progressed so quietly for the next couple of days that I began +to wonder whether I had not fallen into a sinecure after all. Bryce had +procured me a decent outfit so that I was now my own man again, ready to +argue the right-of-way with all comers. Added to that my feet were well +on the mend and my general health was keeping pretty near to the +top-notch mark, so I wasn't finding life such a bad thing after all. +Bryce worried me but little. At times I went odd messages for him, but +all my trips were so arranged that I was never away from the house more +than half an hour at a time. The more I thought over the mystery +surrounding him the deeper and more inexplicable it became. I knew of +whom he was afraid, but I had no more idea of the reason of his fear +than I had of the name of the man in the moon. My occupation was more +reminiscent of revolutionary South America than of a civilised country, +and the thought of it set me wondering whether Bryce had ever lived +amongst the volatile Latins on the other side of the Pacific. Come to +think of it the one man I had seen closely had been a dark type. It was +just barely possible that Bryce had somehow tangled himself in something +of the kind. But then that cipher business—I was fully convinced by now +that it was some original kind of cryptogram—rather pointed the other +way. One of the things I had noticed had been a £ sign, and anything +dealing with any of the Latin Republics would almost assuredly have been +written with a $ sign. Ultimately I came to the conclusion that I had +been barking up the wrong tree.</p> + +<p>I jotted down the figures that I remembered, but I must have had some of +the signs down wrong, for, try as I would, I could make nothing out of +them. As a matter of fact the solution was so simple that in the end I +only stumbled on it by accident.</p> + +<p>Bryce had a bad habit of locking himself in his room for hours at a +time, and it occurred to me that such a course wasn't in his own +interest any more than mine, so I tackled him about it at the first +opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Here you are," I said, "paying me for being a mixture of Swiss Guard +and watch-dog, but for all the looking-after you get I might as well be +miles away. I don't want to be hanging on to your skirts every ten +minutes or so, but doesn't it strike you as a reasonable man that you're +inviting trouble by locking yourself in so securely?"</p> + +<p>"I do that so I won't be disturbed," he urged.</p> + +<p>"That's a reason that cuts both ways," I said. "Suppose somebody +happened to be in the room when you arrived. Don't you see that he could +do all he wanted to do without being disturbed either."</p> + +<p>"But you'd hear any uncommon noise," Bryce objected.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I would and then maybe I wouldn't. I'm not infallible, you know, +and anyway it's quite possible that any visitor you had wouldn't make a +row at all. And while I'm on it, wouldn't it be just as well to give me +a sketch of the plot? I'm working in the dark as it is, but, if I had +some idea of what's at the back of all this, I might be able to look +after you better."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said slowly, and for the first time +since we had met he eyed me with suspicion. There was doubt in his +glance, the sort of doubt that a man does not care to see in the eyes of +a friend. I saw that I had made a radical mistake in even hinting that I +wished to know his secret, and I hastened to make what amends I could.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," I said, "if you look at it in that way. I was only doing it +for your own good. You're paying what's an enormous sum to me, and I'm +trying to justify your expenditure. If I know your enemies and all about +them, I can certainly plan level and, maybe, occasionally outguess them. +That's the only thing I had in mind when I spoke, and if I gave you any +other impression I'm sorry I said what I did."</p> + +<p>He moved his shoulders in a kind of half-shrug. It was at once a gesture +of relief and of dismissal, so without more ado I said, "If there's +nothing further you want, I'll make off now. If you want me any time +I'll be pottering around the house somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Well, there is something I'd like you to do, Jim," he said. "I want +half-a-dozen parish maps. Here's the list of them"—he handed me a piece +of paper with a few names scribbled on the back—"and here's the money. +Go down to the Lands Department and they'll fix you up. Mind that they +are large scale maps, the largest they've got. You'd better take the +car, and don't be any longer than you can help."</p> + +<p>"It's a twenty minutes' run at the outside," I said. "I won't waste any +time."</p> + +<p>He nodded quite cheerfully to me and went into his room. I heard the key +grate in the lock as I walked down the passage and I remember saying to +myself, "That habit's going to get him into trouble yet."</p> + +<p>I reached the office in record time. They had some trouble in finding +the maps I wanted—most of them were of parishes situated around the +foot of the Grampians—but in the end they produced some that I fancied +would suit my man. My twenty minutes' limit had almost expired and, as +it is a matter of pride with me to be punctual, I let the car out a +little. That, I suppose, was my undoing, for just as I crossed over the +busiest street a motor-lorry swerved out and nearly collided with me. I +did some very neat wheel-work, but my new course took me right across to +the gutter, and before I had quite realised what had happened I had +speared my tyre with a jagged piece of glass. The tyre popped off with a +report like that of a small revolver, and the next second I was bumping +on the frame. I pulled up as quickly as I could, but the mischief was +done and the tyre was just one great rip from end to end. Luckily I +carried a spare wheel, but I am an unhandy man at the merely mechanical +part of the work, and I took twice as long over it as a professional +would have. By the time I was ready to start again my twenty minutes had +lengthened into an hour, and somehow the knowledge of that worried me.</p> + +<p>I packed my tools anyhow, hopped back into the car and threw over my +clutch. The car started with a little jerk that I didn't quite relish, +and on looking over the side I saw that the new wheel was wobbling, not +very much indeed, but just enough to show me that I had bungled my work. +I immediately cut down my speed and proceeded for the rest of the +journey at something closely approaching a snail's pace.</p> + +<p>"Now," I said to myself, "if this was in a novel I'd say that the lorry +cut across my path deliberately. But as this is in real life and the +lorry belongs to a firm of respectable grocers it can't be anything else +but just my own darned bad luck."</p> + +<p>I dismissed the incident at that and turned my attention to my driving. +I had no intention of mixing myself up in another such accident if I +could possibly avoid it, and now that I had definitely taken service +with Bryce I felt I owed it to him to exercise all reasonable care. +After my first few spasmodic attempts at resistance I had succumbed +rather quickly to his enticing offer. After all, I thought, I wouldn't +be putting myself in any greater danger than I had been in for the past +four years. I had faced sudden death in many shapes and forms during my +sojourn in the strange wild lands about the Line, so much so that, once +I had taken into account the money Bryce was giving me, the present +adventure rather degenerated into a pleasant little game of +hide-and-seek.</p> + +<p>I was still turning this over in that portion of my mind which wasn't +occupied with the sheerly mechanical side of my work when I reached the +house. More from force of habit than from any other cause I cast my eyes +along the road, much as if it had been a forest trail that held secrets +only a woodsman could read. Plainly marked in the dust of the roadway +were the tracks of a vehicle that I instinctively knew to be a cab. It +had veered right in towards the kerb, and a moment's study convinced me +that it had stopped at Bryce's house. Now that meant that somebody had +arrived during my absence, and, as Bryce had said nothing to me about +expecting a visitor, I decided that the sooner I entered the house and +investigated the better for the safety of all concerned. I drove the car +into the garage in record time and darted into the house as if the devil +were at my heels. There wasn't a sound to be heard; even the eternal +clatter of the typewriter had ceased. With a caution born of experience +I tip-toed up the passage, all my senses instinctively on the alert. The +door of Bryce's room was still locked and everything, to all outward +seeming, was just as I had left it. I don't know what I had expected to +find in the passage, but the very apparent quietness of the place +sobered me considerably, and I realised abruptly on what a slender +foundation I had based my fears. If anything had happened during my +absence it was almost certain that I would have found some trace of it +in the hall, a rug disarranged, or a mat kicked away from the door. All +the odds were on Bryce working quietly behind the locked door. Yet of +all the foolish things in the world for me to think of the idea that +entered my mind just then was that something that concerned me very +intimately was being worked out in the room across the passage.</p> + +<p>I made one step forward and then I stopped abruptly. Some one else than +Bryce was in the room. Out of the silence came a voice, a woman's voice. +It was smooth and well-modulated, and there was the faintest touch of +music in it. In some curious way it touched a stray chord in my memory. +I knew at once that I had heard it before, but how or where I could no +more say than I could fly. Perhaps that was because its full notes were +muffled by the door that intervened.</p> + +<p>"I'd do anything," the woman said in the quietest tones imaginable, +"anything but that. You don't understand. If you knew all the +circumstances, if you knew just how and why we parted you wouldn't ask +me. I'm sorry for it all now, more sorry than you could believe, but you +can't expect me to take up things just where they left off—as if +nothing had happened."</p> + +<p>"Bryce's got a little romance tucked away up his sleeve," I thought. +"This sort of complicates matters. Wonder who the lady is?"</p> + +<p>"My dear girl," came the reply in Bryce's tones, softer and more +persuasive than I had ever heard them, "I know more perhaps than you +think. I'm doing this out of the fullness of my knowledge in the hope +that when I'm gone...."</p> + +<p>"Don't!" the woman interrupted sharply. "Don't talk like that!"</p> + +<p>"It's one of the things we've got to face," Bryce said gently. "I won't +live for ever anyway, and you know as well as I do just what chance I +run of having a period put to me ... any time now." The last three words +were spoken very slowly and distinctly, as if Bryce wished them to sink +into the mind of his companion. "You're the only person in the world +that I care a hang about," he continued with a note of indescribable +pathos in his voice, "and I'm doing all this for you ... and him."</p> + +<p>"But I tell you," the girl said with a little flash of anger, "I tell +you I won't have anything to do with him. If you bring him to the house +I'll cut him dead."</p> + +<p>"And put yourself doubly in the wrong and make it all the harder for +everybody," Bryce told her.</p> + +<p>There was a dogged note in the girl's voice as she replied. "I know I +was wrong, but I just can't do what you want. I can't say more than +that."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you look at things that way," Bryce said. "I had hoped...." I +did not catch the nature of his hope, for his voice dropped an octave or +so and his sentence ended in whispers.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy Carstairs," I said to myself, "you've been eavesdropping and you +know it. You mustn't be caught doing those kind of things. Get out of +the way as fast as you can," and at that I twisted round on my heel and +went back down the hall. I hadn't any desire to be caught listening to +conversations that were obviously not intended for me and that anyway +weren't of the least interest. So you can be sure that when I did return +up the hall I walked fairly heavily and coughed discreetly as soon as I +was within hearing distance of Bryce's room.</p> + +<p>The key turned in the lock of a sudden and the door was flung wide open. +The girl stood in her own light so that the shadows masked her face, but +the sun fell full on mine and my features must have been clearly visible +to her.</p> + +<p>"You!" she said, with a little catch in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door, please," I said, in the most matter-of-fact tones I +could muster. "Shut the door and come out here."</p> + +<p>I knew her now. God! Could I ever forget her? In a flash my mind flew +back through four years—or was it five?—to that evening when she had +caused my little world to rock and tremble, and then to fall in pieces +at my feet. I had loved her then—I thought I loved her more than +anything or anyone in this world—but a dying father's wish had come +between us. The poor old Dad had made a life study of the Islands—how +monumental a study it was let his three volumes of Solomon Island +Ethnology bear witness—yet he died before he had quite completed his +notes. Though he had said nothing to me I knew the wish that lay nearest +his heart, and I made his dying hour almost the happiest of his life by +promising to carry on his work.</p> + +<p>I remember the night I came out to tell her. The sky was streaked with +dead gold and cerise and warm-tinted clouds trailed across the heavens +like the ends of a scarf streaming from the neck of a hurrying woman. +All the world was gay that evening and I whistled as I went. She was +waiting at the gate as always she had waited for me. She greeted me with +a smile and some bright little remark that I forgot practically the +instant it was uttered.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you," I said; "I want to talk seriously."</p> + +<p>She smiled up at me, a trusting little smile as I thought. She had no +idea what was coming, but she always gave me my head in the things that +do not matter much.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Jim?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It's this," I said, and then I told what I had promised.</p> + +<p>"But that," she protested, "means burying yourself in New Guinea and the +Solomons for four whole years."</p> + +<p>"It does," I said. "There is no other way."</p> + +<p>I had not been looking at her face—there had been no need, for I was +quite convinced that she would see things in a proper light—but now I +turned on her. To my surprise there was just the least little touch of +annoyance in her face.</p> + +<p>"You don't quite relish the idea," I said.</p> + +<p>"It's a very foolish idea," she said quite frankly. "I don't know what +you could have been thinking of."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of my father," I told her. "I was making his last hour +happy, and he died in the knowledge that I would carry his work on to +the conclusion he had planned."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to see it through?" The abruptness of the question took +me aback.</p> + +<p>"Of course," I said. "What else could I do?"</p> + +<p>"Four years!" she said. "What is to become of me?"</p> + +<p>"The time will soon go by," I answered, "and then I'll come back to you +and everything will be right."</p> + +<p>"You seem to think of everyone but me," she said hotly. "You promised so +that your father would die easy, and that's the end of it. If you are +going to be bound by such a thing as that you're nothing more than an +impractical idealist."</p> + +<p>"I passed my word and a Carstairs never breaks a promise."</p> + +<p>"You mean that, Jim? You mean that you are going away to ... carry out +that absurd promise?"</p> + +<p>"It's not absurd," I declared.</p> + +<p>"I think it is," she said wilfully. "If you go, you need never come +back."</p> + +<p>"I am going," I said steadily. "As an honorable man there is no other +course open to me. I'm sorry that you look at it this way, but I can't +do anything else."</p> + +<p>"At last I know how much you think of me," she said with that little +touch of anger with which a woman always defends the indefensible. "You +never did care for me."</p> + +<p>"I do, I do," I protested. "Can't you see it?"</p> + +<p>"I can't see anything," she said stubbornly, "except that you'd do this +rather than listen to me. It shows all you think of me. Oh, I hate you! +I never, never want to see you again!"</p> + +<p>"Is that your last word?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely my last," she answered firmly.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "here's my last too. I'm going to carry out my promise, +and if a man had spoken to me about it as you have spoken to me to-night +I would have pulped his face."</p> + +<p>"I really believe you would," she said exasperatingly. "You see, Jim, +you were always something of a savage. That, I suppose, is why you are +so anxious to go to the Islands ... where the savages are."</p> + +<p>That was the very last word she had said to me, for the next moment the +gate was banged behind her and shut me out of her life. I was hurt, +badly hurt in my self-esteem, but my rising anger, burning hot within +me, kept me from feeling as bad as I might have felt. In two months' +time I landed at Tulagi on Florida Island, and for the next four years +or so the civilised world knew me not. I reached finality, but I spent +my fortune and came back to Australia to all intents and purposes a +pauper. Four years...! Here she was facing me at last—just as if +nothing had ever come between us.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's me," I said ungrammatically. "Why?"</p> + +<p>She raised her hand to her throat with a queer little gesture. "I didn't +quite expect to see you ... yet," she said.</p> + +<p>"It's the unexpected that happens," I remarked. "I've come back at last, +though in slightly different circumstances."</p> + +<p>"I know, Jim. I've heard."</p> + +<p>"He told you," I suggested, and nodded towards the door she had just +closed.</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?" she asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"It is my business to know things," I told her. "I'm a professional +caretaker of secrets now."</p> + +<p>She looked at me blankly and I saw that he had not told her everything. +It behoved me to play the game warily until I was sure of my ground.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, Moira?" I asked her point-blank.</p> + +<p>"That's a question I could ask you," she countered. "But I am here, not +from any desire to meet you—I didn't know you were here—but because he +sent for me."</p> + +<p>"And why should he send for you?" I persisted.</p> + +<p>There was just the faintest flicker of a smile moving about her lips +now; she had turned a little and the light was playing on her face.</p> + +<p>"For just the simplest reason in the world. He wanted me."</p> + +<p>"Why should he want you?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>She looked at me a moment as if astonished that I should ask such a +question. But there was that in my eyes which told her that my ignorance +was anything but assumed.</p> + +<p>"You really mean to say you don't know?" she asked incredulously.</p> + +<p>"If I did know I wouldn't question you about it," I said shortly. "What +is the reason?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," she answered lightly, with just a slight uplift of her +eyebrows—an old theatrical trick that I used to admire in the days gone +by—"he happens to be my uncle."</p> + +<p>"That puts another complexion on matters," I said half to myself. But +her quick ear caught the drift of my remark and she was down on me like +the wolf on the fold.</p> + +<p>"You're in with him, are you?" she questioned, with that devouring flame +I knew so well flaring up in her golden-brown eyes. "You're in with +him ... in this?"</p> + +<p>In a way I wasn't. As a matter-of-fact I suspected from her last words +that she knew more about everything than I did, but I was perfectly sure +that she wouldn't believe me if I denied it, so I said instead, "Yes, I +am."</p> + +<p>"I might have known it," she said with a little shake of her head. I +didn't quite follow her logic, but I judged it best to let it pass. One +would think from the way she spoke that there was something +reprehensible in being mixed up in anything conducted by her venerable +relative. I wondered why.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you might have known it," I said, falling in with her own humor. +"I have a habit of doing things I shouldn't."</p> + +<p>I knew she understood my veiled allusion, for I saw her bite her lip and +again the lambent flame leaped up in her eyes. But it died as suddenly +as it had come, and in another instant the old tantalising smile was +playing about the corners of her mouth. In the smoky interminable depths +of the Solomon Island jungle I had crushed that smile out of my life, +for ever I had thought. I had deliberately erased it from my memory, and +at night beside the smudge fire, when my eyes closed for an instant and +that beautiful imperious face peeped at me from out of the mazes of +recollection, I would open my eyes and stared fixedly at the misshapen +headhunters who were my sole companions in that wilderness. "These," I +would say, "are the kindred of us both. Their women smile as she smiles, +and the men respond to it as I used to respond." And with that thought +in my head I would fall asleep and not dream.</p> + +<p>"Jim," she said with abrupt irrelevance, "you've changed. You usen't to +be like that before. You're different somehow ... cynical, I think."</p> + +<p>"That's more than likely," I agreed. "I'm learning to hit back. And now +if you'll excuse me," I ran on before she had time to answer, "I'll just +drop in with this parcel."</p> + +<p>Then without more ado I turned on my heel and knocked at Bryce's door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IV" id="Chapter_IV"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE THIEF IN THE NIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>"I've got those maps you wanted," I remarked as Bryce opened the door, +"and I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."</p> + +<p>"You haven't," he said with a smile. "As a matter-of-fact I've been +otherwise occupied. I've had a visitor."</p> + +<p>"A visitor?" I said guardedly, though what on earth there was to guard +against was more than I could have said just then. Some cross-grained +streak in my nature made me both cantankerous and suspicious, and while +the mood was on me I would have contradicted or queried the word of an +archangel.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Bryce replied. "The lady you met in the passage. I gather that +she knows you."</p> + +<p>"We knew each other years ago," I said shortly. In a flash the meaning +of the conversation I had overheard burst on me. I began to perceive +that her presence in the house was due in part at least to me. Well, if +he fancied he was going to patch up our old love affair he had +undertaken a bigger job than he thought. For two pins I would have told +him, had he uttered another word, that there was one matter in which I +would brook no man's interference, and that even the ties that bound him +to my father were not strong enough to allow him to settle what was +nobody's affair but mine. But, with even greater tact than I believed he +possessed, he switched the conversation on to quite another subject and +talked to me for the better part of half-an-hour about the maps I had +brought.</p> + +<p>He had the formation of the country and its industries at his fingers' +ends, and he spoke like a man who had gained his information at +first-hand. I listened attentively, for I guessed in some queer fashion +of my own that the maps and that foolish cryptogram, the shooting on the +beach and the piece of driftwood were all somehow connected. But either +I must have missed some very obvious point or else he picked his words +so carefully that he misled me.</p> + +<p>I used my eyes for all they were worth, which wasn't much. The +typewriter stood on the table in its old position, and the table itself +was littered with sheets of typed figures. "More timber measurements," I +said to myself. Somehow the sight of those sheets troubled me. They were +innocent-looking enough in all conscience, and I couldn't for the life +of me understand why they should have this peculiar effect on me. I felt +as if a cold gust of wind, the icy breath of Death himself, had passed +and touched me in the passing. I flatter myself that I have pretty +strong nerves—the Lord knows they've been tested often enough—but +there was something in the atmosphere of that room, something in the +sight of those littered sheets of paper, that sent a cold shiver through +me, that made me want to rush from the place into the golden sunshine +out of doors. It was a presentiment, but one that could not be +localised. It did not appear to be one that could be shared either, for +Bryce still talked on in his own quaint way, apparently unaffected by +the strange influence which so troubled me.</p> + +<p>At last he rose and proceeded to gather up the disordered papers on the +table. I rose too, and with a careless "So long," was making for the +door when he stopped me with a question.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he asked, "that you haven't seen anything lately of our +inquisitive friends?"</p> + +<p>"The Roman sentry and the gentleman with the hardware and the smashed +wrist?" I answered his question with one of mine.</p> + +<p>He smiled at my description and the laughter-lines about his mouth +creased into a myriad wrinkles. "You have them exactly," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't seen them," I said. "They seem to have disappeared into +nothingness."</p> + +<p>Curiously enough the news, instead of pleasing, seemed to disappoint +him. "They evidently mean business," he said in a semi-undertone. It +seemed almost as if he was speaking his thoughts out aloud.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at me with brooding eyes and brows drawn close together. +"We'll hear from them presently," he murmured, "and then the end won't +be far away."</p> + +<p>"Cheer up," I said hastily, "They've got a long way to go yet, and I +don't think they'll find me altogether pleasant to deal with."</p> + +<p>"If you knew all about it," he said, and then he hesitated. For just the +fraction of a second he trembled on the point of divulging everything, +and then his old cautiousness re-asserted itself and the impulse died +away.</p> + +<p>"That'll be all," he said briskly. "Just keep your eyes and your ears +open, Jim, and, as you say, we'll beat them yet."</p> + +<p>But I rather fancied from his tone that he meant that last sentence the +other way about.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I came awake instantly. The noise that had awakened me still echoed in +my ears and, though I could not put a name to it, I could have sworn +that it came from the room where Bryce did his typing. It was a very +faint noise, not the kind to bring a heavy sleeper instantly awake. But +my nerves work like a hair-trigger, and the almost noiseless pad of a +cat across the room at night is sufficient to rouse me. What I had heard +had been so faint that a less matter-of-fact man might have imagined +that he had dreamt it. But I knew better. I don't dream.</p> + +<p>The obvious thing was to slip out of bed at once and investigate. I +didn't. I knew a trick worth two of that. I sat up and listened. It +might be a wandering tabby that had blundered into a piece of furniture; +perhaps the window had creaked; it might be any one of half a hundred +things. If there was an intruder in the house I felt certain that +presently I would hear something more. No man, no matter how careful he +be, can move with a complete absence of sound.</p> + +<p>Five minutes passed, ten, a quarter of an hour. Nothing happened. And +then, just as I was beginning to despair, I heard it again. It was a +little plainer this time. Somebody had scraped a chair across the floor +and it had creaked slightly.</p> + +<p>That was more than enough for me. I slipped out of bed, but I did not +hurry. Many a man with the prize almost within his grasp has lost it +simply because he has rushed at it with his eyes shut. I didn't dawdle, +but I said to myself, "The more haste the less speed, Jim," and +accordingly I took my time. Of course if I had fancied that there was +one chance in a hundred of the man getting away, I would have been on +the spot like a shot, but I guessed from what I had heard that the +visitor was in no hurry, and certainly hadn't the faintest suspicion +that anyone in the house was aware of his presence. I got my clothes on +somehow and took a grip of my long Colt by the barrel end. I didn't want +to shoot unless there was no other way out of it, and anyway a +revolver-shot kicks up such an infernal racket inside a house and brings +on the scene quite a number of people who'd be better at home and in +bed.</p> + +<p>I slunk down the passage like a shadow, walking as if I were treading on +eggs. Very softly I tried the door. To my disgust it was locked. Now the +only time Bryce ever locked it was when he was at work inside, so I knew +that my man was still within reach. As if to make assurance doubly sure +I caught, as I stepped back, the faint gleam of a pencil of light from +under the doorway.</p> + +<p>The position as I summed it up was this:—The intruder had entered +through the door and had quietly locked it behind him. That would have +been the first noise I had heard. Then he had hunted about for whatever +he wanted and, once it had been found, he had drawn the chair up to the +table and settled down to a prolonged study of the matter. That would +explain the two sounds. Now as my man had come in through the door he +was almost certain to go out the same way and, in the interests of peace +and quiet, the proper course to take was to sit down and wait until he +decided to come out.</p> + +<p>I can't say how long I waited there. It seemed like hours, but of course +at the outside it could not have been many minutes. I would dearly have +liked to smoke, but I rather fancied that the other man's nose would be +sure to scent me out. Also a scrape of a match in a still house at the +dead of night sounds like a bomb-explosion. So I just squatted down on +my heels and cursed my man under my breath. I was in deadly fear most of +the time that he would make a noise of some kind and bring the other +inhabitants down about my ears. He was my meat, and I meant to eat him +myself.</p> + +<p>At length the pencil of light went out. Somebody moved stealthily across +the room and the key turned softly in the lock. I balanced the gun in my +hand and got ready to swing. It was pitch-dark in the hall and I could +not see an inch in front of me, but I had my fingers right up against +the jamb of the door and I could feel it opening. The man was breathing +with a barely perceptible wheeze and, if I had not been listening for +something of the kind, I might have missed it altogether. But it was +quite loud enough for me to position the fellow, and the next instant I +flopped out of the darkness on to him. He gave a surprised little gasp, +a sort of sizzling like the air escaping out of a punctured tyre, and +went down on the mat underneath me. I had taken him so completely off +his guard that there was no need for me to use my gun. I got one hand on +his throat in the most approved style of the garrotte and just pressed. +He wriggled a little at first, but I kept up the same even pressure, and +presently he went limp. I knew then that he was harmless for the next +ten minutes, so I released my hold, slipped my useless Colt into my +pocket, and made to stand up. But at that precise moment the electric +light in the hall went on, and a silvery voice said, "Hands up, please!"</p> + +<p>In the astonishment of the moment I shot my hands heavenwards and turned +round to view the new arrival. It was just as I thought. Moira had +blundered into my little surprise party, and she was doing her level +best to annex all the honors for herself. She was standing with one hand +on the light switch and the other held Bryce's automatic. Her face was +very pale, and the hand that held the revolver wasn't quite as steady as +I could have wished. She blinked a little at me—her eyes seemed blinded +by the sudden radiance—and I don't think she recognised me for the +moment, so much do one's ordinary clothes make the man.</p> + +<p>It was clearly up to me to disillusion her and persuade her either to +put down the revolver or hold it in a way less calculated to alarm the +peaceful public.</p> + +<p>"You'd better put down that infernal thing, Moira," I said calmly, "or +you'll be doing someone damage. The mere sight of you makes me nervous, +Diana."</p> + +<p>There was a studied insult in the last word, but I think somehow she +must have missed it in the excitement of the moment, for she lowered her +gun and ran towards me.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you!" she cried surprisedly.</p> + +<p>"It's me," I said dourly, and I dropped my hands into a more convenient +position. "In fact it's so much me that I'd be obliged if you'd keep +quiet for a while and help me look after this gentleman on the floor. I +want to examine him, and I don't think I'll be able to do it in comfort +if you wake the rest of the family."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?" she asked, showing by the subdued note of her voice that +she had taken my warning to heart.</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say," I answered. "I discovered him in the room +there, and when he came out I promptly sat on him."</p> + +<p>"But what did he want?"</p> + +<p>"If one can judge anything from his present attitude, he came to study +the pattern of the carpet, Moira."</p> + +<p>"Be serious, Jim, please."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't if I tried," I said, rising to my feet. "It's too much like +hard work. But let's look at the captive, Diana."</p> + +<p>This time the shot went home, and in a way I was glad. I had four years' +arrears to make up yet. It was not a very manly thing to do, I know—it +certainly wasn't at all gentlemanly—but it gave me a deuce of a lot of +satisfaction, and that's about all I can say in defence. She looked up +at me with both hurt and contempt in her eyes, but I was far too +engrossed in the business in hand to give her more than passing notice. +When I came to think it over in calmer moments I realised that, despite +all that had happened, the girl was just as much in love with me as ever +she had been.</p> + +<p>The fellow was young, at the most he could not have been more than +twenty-four or five, and I saw instantly that he was the man I had +called the Roman sentry—the chap who had been spying on the house the +day Bryce had driven me home from the Heads. The life wasn't crushed out +of him by any means; even as I examined him he stirred a little and his +eyes opened. They were nice black eyes, the sort that brim over with +humor, yet way at the back of them I caught a glimpse of something else. +It was a queer mixture of anger and determination, and I saw just +sufficient of it to warn me to take no unnecessary risks. Save for that +first spasmodic movement he lay perfectly still, those black eyes of his +laughing up at me and challenging. Somehow they filled me with a curious +sense of unrest, a feeling as if everything that made life safe and +secure was slipping away from me. I did not speak a word, however, but +gave him back look for look, striving with my eyes to beat down the +challenge I read in his. They said as plainly as so many words, "I'm the +better man, and I'll beat you yet. Try and see if I don't."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" I demanded at length, seeing that one of us +must speak, and he seemed the less likely.</p> + +<p>"If I told you I was a somnambulist you wouldn't believe me, would you?" +he replied.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't," I said tersely.</p> + +<p>"I'm not, anyway," he continued, with those infernally self-possessed +eyes daring me ... daring me what?</p> + +<p>"You've got to explain what you were doing in that room," I threatened. +"The sooner you tell me the better it'll be for you."</p> + +<p>"It's no use talking like that, my friend," he said. "You won't get a +word more out of me than I wish, and while I think of it you'd better +call in the police at once and have done with it."</p> + +<p>It was the first time that the idea of the police had occurred to me, +and, now I came to think of it, it wasn't too acceptable. Without +knowing much about it, I surmised that the less Bryce had to do with the +police the better he'd be pleased, that is if I could base anything on +the way he had behaved that morning on the beach. As it was Moira seemed +to have much the same idea as myself, or perhaps she spoke from superior +knowledge.</p> + +<p>"Don't call the police in, Jim," she said in a quick whisper. "You +mustn't do that. It'd be better to let him go."</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "I don't want to let him go," I said, "but if you don't +want to make an example of him, I don't see what else there is for it. +I'll have a word with him first, at any rate, and see what I can make +out of him."</p> + +<p>"Be careful, Jim," she whispered, all the strain and anger occasioned by +my ill-timed insult disappearing in her anxiety for my welfare.</p> + +<p>I ignored her admonition, more because I could think of no suitable +reply than for any other reason, and addressed myself to the captive.</p> + +<p>"Get up," I said. "You and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart +talk."</p> + +<p>He made no effort to rise, so I leaned over and hauled him up by the +collar. By the feel of him he was some forty pounds lighter than I, and +I made a mental note of that in case we had a scrimmage on the way. +Weight counts a good deal in a rough-and-tumble. I got a good neck-hold +on him, and then I turned to Moira. "You'd better get back to bed and +forget," I said. "I'll deal with this smart Alec here."</p> + +<p>I did not wait to see if she took my advice, but I prodded my captive +with my free hand. "Jog along, Eliza," I said. "Straight down the hall, +and don't try any monkey tricks."</p> + +<p>He went quietly enough; if I had had my wits about me I would have had +my suspicions aroused by that same fact. I was flushed with victory, +and, what was even more pleasant, I was acting to an impressionable +audience. I was sure that Moira could not fail to appreciate the +neatness with which I had conducted the whole affair, and, though I kept +telling myself that I did not care a hang for her, I hadn't the faintest +objection to showing off before her. On the contrary. That, in part at +least, was the cause of my undoing.</p> + +<p>The hall ended in a big French window that opened out on to the back +verandah. It was very seldom used, indeed I had never seen it opened, +but there it was with glass all the way to the floor. When I marched my +prisoner down the hall I had some vague idea of taking him out on to the +verandah and inducing him to tell me what he had come for. But the man +had other plans maturing, and when we were just about six or seven feet +away from the window he gave a little twist and a wriggle and slipped +out of my hands as if he had been an eel. Then, before I had quite +recovered sufficiently to make a grab at the empty air, he hurled +himself against the window. It was one of those foolhardy things that +succeed just because of the sheer, daring recklessness of the man who +carries them through. He swept through the glass with a splintering +crash that must have been audible for half-a-block away, and then, while +the falling pieces still tinkled on the floor, he placed his hand on the +verandah rail and vaulted to the ground. I drew my revolver at once—I +had been pulling it out of my pocket even as I ran down the hall—and +took a flying shot at him. But in the hurry of the moment I missed, and +I padded out on to the verandah through the splintered window just in +time to see him scaling the back fence with the practised ease of the +family tabby.</p> + +<p>I did not attempt to follow him. I knew the uselessness of such a +proceeding. Just for the fraction of a second his hurrying silhouette +had shown on the top of the fence, and then it had melted into the +surrounding shadows of the dawn with a silence and celerity which, more +than anything else, told me how difficult it would be to trace him.</p> + +<p>I turned on my heel, only to find that the lights were blazing up in +practically every room, and Moira, Bryce and the servants were gathered +in a huddled, indecisive group just inside the window. Most of them +looked startled. Bryce had been a little shaken, but his self-possession +was rapidly returning. Moira, indeed, was the only one who faced me with +anything like calmness in her face.</p> + +<p>"You'd better all get back to bed," I said, seeing that someone had to +take the initiative. "It's nothing very much, nothing to worry you at +any rate."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'd better go back," Bryce said, seconding my remarks. "There's +nothing doing."</p> + +<p>The servants moved away one by one, leaving the three of us together. +For quite a minute Bryce eyed the revolver that I still held in my hand, +then his glance travelled to the shattered window, and, completing the +circle, came to rest on me again.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he queried, with intense interest in his voice. I knew what that +monosyllable meant. It was a request for a detailed account of the +events of that night. Seeing that there was nothing to be gained by +withholding anything, I plunged into the tale and related everything +just as it had happened.</p> + +<p>"So he got away from you?" he remarked when I had finished.</p> + +<p>"He did," I said emphatically.</p> + +<p>"That's about the best thing he could have done," Bryce ran on. "I don't +know what we could have done with him if we had kept him."</p> + +<p>"'He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day,'" I +reminded him.</p> + +<p>"That other day is a matter for the future," he answered. "We'd better +see what he took though. Come on."</p> + +<p>He turned on his heel and led the way to his study just as the first +rays of the rising sun crept up over the distant hills.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_V" id="Chapter_V"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> V.</h2> + +<h3>CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.</h3> + + +<p>The room was much as we had left it the evening before. The typed papers +had disappeared, but a sheet which I recognised as the one I had picked +up from the kitchen floor the day of my arrival lay on the table in full +view. Beside it was the clean blotting pad that I had never yet seen +used. Bryce took no notice of the sheet of figures, but lifted the pad +up, and, drawing a magnifying glass from his pocket, ran his eyes over +the rough white surface. Moira and I watched him with unfeigned +interest. At last he looked up.</p> + +<p>"Just as I thought," he remarked. "Have a look yourself, Jim." He handed +both glass and pad to me. I studied the latter for some seconds before I +quite dropped to what he meant. Gradually I made out figures impressed +on the rough surface. Our midnight visitor had made a copy of that +single sheet, had made it hurriedly in pencil, and the impression had +gone through on to the receptive softness of the blotting paper. My +scrutiny over, I handed the materials to Moira.</p> + +<p>"You understand?" Bryce queried, with little laughter-wrinkles about his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I do," I said admiringly. "I don't know what the man was after, but he +didn't get it. He got a fake instead."</p> + +<p>Bryce nodded. "He's up a gum-tree instead of under one," he said +enigmatically.</p> + +<p>I made no answer to that, chiefly because it struck me that it was the +sort of remark that meant a good deal more than appeared on the surface. +I tucked it away in my memory, quite confident that sooner or later the +march of events would make it clear to me. As a matter of fact, if I +hadn't taken so much notice of that simple sentence, this story would +never have been written, for the key to everything was contained in that +casual remark.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else has been disturbed," Bryce announced, and included the +whole room in one comprehensive gesture. "I'm going back to bed for a +couple of hours. You young people can do just what you like."</p> + +<p>He hustled us out of the room, shut the door carefully behind us, and +went off to his room. Moira made no attempt to follow his example, but +stood in the passage with her deep golden-brown eyes fixed on me. There +was a look in them that I could not quite fathom; it whirled me back +through five years of sorrow and stress, brought me back to the days +when——. No, I wasn't going to think about it at all. It didn't bring +me back to anything; it brought nothing back to me. Yet I could not help +remarking that her eyes held solicitude for me and something that was +more than that.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going back to rest?" I asked, and was surprised to note that +there was both interest and defiance in my voice.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you," she said, answering my question by inference. +"I want to talk seriously to you."</p> + +<p>So it was coming at last. She intended putting Bryce's advice into +execution. Perhaps she thought it was merely a matter of telling me that +she was sorry for what had occurred, and then everything would begin +again just where it had left off. If she thought so she was radically +mistaken. My love had been rejected and I had been wounded in my pride. +Through four long years of repression the knowledge had rankled in my +mind till now the very sight of her standing there and beseeching me +with her eyes was more than I could bear. I would not have been human +had I not felt the old wound pricking me again, and I certainly would +not have been a Carstairs had the mere sight of her apparent contrition +moved me to forgive her on the spot. I was quite willing to be friendly, +I told myself, but by nothing short of a miracle could we regain the old +footing. The worst of it was that something moved me to take her in my +arms then and there and kiss away the tears that were very near her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say to you, Jim," she said tentatively.</p> + +<p>"There's no need to say anything, Moira." I tried to speak as kindly as +possible, but somehow I think I failed. "I happened to overhear you and +your uncle yesterday, and I know just what you mean. But, Moira, I don't +see how things can ever be the same again. It isn't as if it were +something I could forget. It isn't. It goes right down to the +fundamentals. If our love wouldn't stand the strain I put on it, it +wasn't worth having. I hate to have to speak to you like this, but, when +all's said and done, it's just as well to be frank first as last."</p> + +<p>She nodded with tight-closed lips. I saw that she was trying her hardest +to keep control of herself, and for a moment it was touch and go with +me. I very seldom set my mind to anything that I don't carry through, +and in this instance I had a very clear and definite plan outlined in my +mind. So I just set my teeth and carried it off as if nothing really +mattered very much.</p> + +<p>"You heard us yesterday then?" she said at length. She spoke so slowly +that she almost drawled her words.</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"That's what you were doing then when I came out of the room?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," I said. I fancied it would only make matters worse if I +explained everything in detail.</p> + +<p>"I was wrong, Jim, and I apologise," she said. There was a little gleam +of flame in her eyes that made me hang on her words. "I was wrong," she +repeated. "I said yesterday that you had changed, but I don't think you +have. You're just the same old Jim, a bit of a savage and just as +primitive as ever."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Moira," I said. "I didn't expect it from you, but now I know +what to look for."</p> + +<p>"It is war then?" she said, with a little sparkle in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"War it is," I answered; "as the Spaniards say, 'Guerra al cuchillo.'"</p> + +<p>"Please translate," she requested. "I do not speak Spanish."</p> + +<p>"War to the knife," I said briskly.</p> + +<p>She half turned, then spoke to me over her shoulder. "I had hoped that +we would be allies," she said softly, and was gone before I could ask +her why.</p> + +<p>As was only to be expected, things were very quiet during the next few +days. Bryce went about his own affairs more openly than hitherto. With +the passing of our midnight visitor all fear of attack seemed to have +disappeared. He did not say as much to me, but in many little ways he +showed that he was much easier in his mind. I found that I had next to +nothing to do. He did not go out of his way now to find something to +keep me occupied. As a matter of fact, I saw very little of him and +practically nothing at all of Moira.</p> + +<p>I spent most of my time thinking. I went over everything that had +happened from the moment I sat down on the beach right down to the visit +of that interesting and entertaining gentleman who had made his exit +from the house in so unorthodox a manner. There was logic running right +through the piece; every little incident seemed to dovetail into the +others, yet, because I did not have the key, I could not read the +riddle. Why did the man on the beach fire at Bryce? I could not say. +Then just for amusement's sake I got a piece of paper and a pencil and +dotted down the items that wanted explaining. They ran somehow like +this:—</p> + +<p>1. Why was Bryce shot at?</p> + +<p>2. Why was he being watched?</p> + +<p>3. What was the meaning of those figures I had seen?</p> + +<p>4. Why was Bryce so anxious to avoid publicity?</p> + +<p>5. Why did everybody seem satisfied when the burglar got away?</p> + +<p>6. What was the burglar after, and why was he apparently satisfied even +when he got the wrong figures?</p> + +<p>7. What did the piece of driftwood have to do with it, and what +connection was there between the wood and the typed figures?</p> + +<p>And, lastly, what was it all about, anyhow?</p> + +<p>Some of the items taken singly were quite susceptible of explanation, +but I could not put forward any solution that covered them in toto. So +eventually I gave it up, deciding that it wasn't my affair, and the less +I worried myself about what didn't concern me, the better.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The tragedy, coming as it did like a bolt out of a clear sky, so upset +everything that I really cannot say whether it was a week or ten days +later that it happened. But I do remember, with that accuracy of detail +that a man sometimes retains even when he is doubtful of essentials, the +various events of that evening.</p> + +<p>Immediately after tea Bryce rose from the table with the expressed +intention of going to his study. I recall that he remarked to Moira as +he passed her that everything was going along swimmingly, and that if he +had no further word during the next couple of days he would consider +that it was quite safe to try his luck. I didn't understand what he +meant, though he seemed to be referring in a general way to the late +burglary, if burglary it could be called. Moira was quite aware of the +drift of his remarks, for she asked him wouldn't it be better to let the +week elapse before he did anything.</p> + +<p>"We've waited too long," he said. "We should have got to work long +before. Too much time has been wasted already." Then he turned to me and +said casually, "Drop in and see me later on, Jim. I'll be working till +about ten."</p> + +<p>I told him that I'd be along very shortly, and then I went hunting for a +book to read. I found one at length, and I got so interested in it that +I did not notice time passing. I was brought back to reality by a quick +step in the passage, and I turned my head to view the newcomer. It was +only Moira on her way to the study. She went by me with her head in the +air, as if I did not exist. I recall taking out my watch and noting that +it was just a quarter-past-nine, and high time I went in and saw Bryce. +However, as Moira had got in ahead of me, and her business was probably +of a private nature, I decided to wait until I heard her come out again.</p> + +<p>I turned back to my book, but had scarcely found my place when I caught +the tinkle of breaking glass on woodwork, and practically at the same +instant there was a sharp "pop," as if someone had drawn a cork from a +bottle of some gaseous liquid. On the heels of that had come the single +whip-like crack of a revolver. I swung to my feet in an instant, and the +book dropped unheeded to the floor. During the last few days I had got +out of the habit of carrying my revolver, but for all that I made +straight for the study, and without the slightest ceremony turned the +handle. The door was not locked; it opened at my touch. I doubt if it +was even latched.</p> + +<p>If my long years of training in the hard school of experience have +brought me nothing else, they at least taught me to keep my head in just +such an emergency as this present one. It was well for me that I had my +nerves under complete control, for the sight that faced me was one that +I could not have pictured in even my wildest flights of fancy. Bryce was +slumped forward in his chair, his big head sunk on his chest. All the +color had fled from his face, leaving it ashen pale. The kind eyes that +used to sparkle so were glazed now in death, and squinted up at me +through the tangled mat of his eyebrows. The whiteness of his immaculate +shirt-front was defiled for the first and last time by the big blood +stain that showed how his life had ebbed away. But it was Moira most of +all who caught and held my attention. She was standing just a little to +the left of Bryce, her deep eyes wide with horror and a smoking revolver +still held in her white clenched hand. She was staring at Bryce and the +blood-stain on his shirt as if what she saw was too monstrous for +belief.</p> + +<p>"Moira Drummond," I said, in a hard, cold, emotionless voice that I +hardly recognised as mine, "put down that thing instantly."</p> + +<p>She turned her head at my words and regarded me dazedly for just the +fraction of a second. Then in an instant the revolver dropped from her +nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor, she swayed like a +willow-wand in the wind, and would have fallen had I not sprung to catch +her. She went limp in my arms. I did not need a second glance to tell me +that Bryce was dead, and that no one in this world could do anything for +him now. So, recognising that my first duty was to the living, I turned +my attention to Moira. She had merely fainted, and one or two simple +remedies brought her round very quickly. She opened her golden-brown +eyes and looked up into mine. The unaccustomed horror of what she had +just gone through had not yet died out of them; they held a plaintive, +pleading look that somehow went straight to my heart.</p> + +<p>"I didn't do it," she quavered.</p> + +<p>"Who said you did?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The way you looked and spoke to me, Jim——"</p> + +<p>I stopped her with a gesture. "That's all right," I said consolingly. "I +wouldn't have thought so for a moment. But tell me just what happened."</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can," she said. "I was standing by him, talking, and +suddenly I heard the window glass smash and something went 'pop.' And +the next I knew uncle gave a little cry and his head fell forward on his +chest. The blood was welling up out of his wound, and I saw that he was +killed. His revolver was on the table, so I seized it and fired at the +window. I don't know whether I hit whoever fired, but I hope I did," she +concluded, with the faintest touch of forgivable viciousness in her +voice.</p> + +<p>It was only when she drew my attention to it that I remembered having +heard the glass break. The window had a great big star in the centre of +it with a myriad little cracks radiating from it like the spokes of a +wheel.</p> + +<p>Moira looked first at the window, then at the still figure sitting in +the chair. Finally she turned to me.</p> + +<p>"Jim, what are we to do?" she asked helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Well," I answered, seeing now that everything fell upon me, "we'll have +to get hold of a doctor. It's just for form's sake, you understand. He +won't be able to do anything. Then we'll have to ring up the police. +It's a blessing we've got the 'phone on, as I wouldn't care to leave you +by yourself now even for a moment. It's a wonder that none of the +servants heard the noise."</p> + +<p>"They're all out, Jim."</p> + +<p>"That's lucky in one way," I said. "Now, Moira, I want you to understand +that the safety of us both depends on how far you back me up. We can't +touch your uncle until the police come; there'd be trouble if we did. +I'm going to ring up now, and in the meantime you'd better find some of +your uncle's cartridges."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you when I come back," I said. "Just do as I tell you. There +should be some in the drawer of that table. Be careful how you get them +out; you don't want to have to touch anything more than you can help. +I'll leave the door open so I can see you from the 'phone. You won't be +frightened?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, but her white face told me as plainly as so many +words that the sooner I came back the better. Accordingly I wasted no +further time, but turned on the hall light and took up the +telephone-book. For a wonder I had no difficulty in getting connected +with either the doctor or the police, and, once I had made my meaning +plain, I hung up and returned to Moira.</p> + +<p>"The police'll be here in ten minutes at the outside," I said. "I've got +just that time to make you word-perfect. You've got the cartridges? +Thanks. I only want one. Now listen. Your story's thin, it's so thin +that there's many a detective wouldn't believe it; but I'm not going to +give them a chance. I'm going to rig up things so that they'll look +right. What happened is this:—You and I were out in the next room, +reading if you like, when we heard a shot. We rushed in and found your +uncle just as he is now. We've no idea who shot him, and neither you nor +I fired a shot. When we find your uncle's revolver in the drawer with +its seven chambers undischarged we're going to be just as much at sea as +anybody else."</p> + +<p>"But I did fire a shot," she objected. "How can you get away from that?"</p> + +<p>"Easy. First of all I take out the discharged cylinder. Then I clean out +the gun. I mustn't forget to clean it out, because if I do and people +examine it, they'll see that it's been discharged, and they'll begin to +suspect. We mustn't leave the least ground for suspicion. Now, there's +the gun ready loaded in all its chambers and as clean as the day it came +out of the shop. Back it goes into the drawer, and it stays there until +the police find it. You understand just what you've to do now?"</p> + +<p>"I think I do, Jim. But, oh, you've got to help me all you can!"</p> + +<p>"I will that," I said in a sudden burst of cordiality. "I want you to +feel that you can rely on me right through. And if there's any questions +asked just let me do the answering, and if you're asked anything, why +just say the same as I do. You can't say anything else because we were +together all the night."</p> + +<p>"But, Jim, I don't see why we should have to deceive people like this. +Why is it necessary?"</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the thing called circumstantial evidence, Moira? +You must remember that I heard a shot, and ran into the room just in +time to see you standing over your uncle with a smoking revolver. I know +what happened, but the police mightn't look at the matter in the same +light. There's plenty of other ways of explaining that broken window."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know what's best," she said with a tired little sigh. +"But it all does seem so horrible. I wish I hadn't to lie so."</p> + +<p>"There's worse things than lying," I hinted. "It's a case of choosing +the lesser of two evils, and really, Moira, I think in his own peculiar +way your uncle trusted me."</p> + +<p>She nodded as if she could not trust herself to speak.</p> + +<p>Then came the sound of heavy footsteps on the verandah, and the +door-bell rang violently.</p> + +<p>"That's the police, very likely," I said in a quick whisper. "Just keep +your head and leave the rest to me."</p> + +<p>She said no word, but the pressure of her hand on mine told me more than +hours of speech.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VI" id="Chapter_VI"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VI.</h2> + +<h3>I TELL A LIE.</h3> + + +<p>The police had brought the divisional surgeon with them, and he made his +brief examination while the sergeant questioned Moira and myself. My +story was the simple one that I had outlined, and I must say that Moira +played up well to my lead. She was naturally upset at what she had gone +through, and the sergeant, I fancy, made allowance for this, and +attributed any trifling discrepancies between our two stories to this +fact. He was one of the politest officials it has ever been my lot to +deal with, and he carried out his duties in a way that made me his +debtor for life. I was not as shocked by the occurrence as I might have +been. I had seen far too much of the rough side of life and the sudden +side of death to have any other feeling than a rather natural sorrow at +losing a man who had been something more than a benefactor to me; but I +did not make the radical mistake of treating Bryce's death too lightly. +I rather flatter myself that I mixed my sorrow and my common sense in +just the right proportions. It was different with Moira; she was +genuinely distressed, and made no effort to conceal it. It was the first +time for many years that I had seen her so unaffected, and natural, and +I must say that the sight brought out all that was best in me.</p> + +<p>The sergeant took our names and then began a close personal questioning. +He enquired into my past life, asked me how long I had been with Bryce, +and then bluntly demanded to know in what capacity I was staying in the +house.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bryce," I said, "was an old friend of my father's, and naturally +there was always a welcome here for me."</p> + +<p>I picked my words carefully, because I was in mortal dread that some +stray remark might put him on to that affair on the beach. I knew that +if he once got wind of that everything was up with us, and our +hastily-built castle of cards would come tumbling to the ground. While I +was thinking of this it struck me all of a heap that there was a chance +of something leaking out about the burglar of the other day. The only +thing I could see was to make a clean breast of it.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether this has got anything to do with the burglary the +other night," I said casually.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" the sergeant demanded.</p> + +<p>I repeated my remark. "This is the first I've heard of it," the man +said. "Why wasn't it reported before? It's over a week ago, you say."</p> + +<p>"About that," I agreed, "but it was reported. Mr. Bryce went down +himself to tell you." And here I looked warningly at Moira. She gave no +sign that she had noticed my glance, but somehow I felt that she quite +understood what was required of her.</p> + +<p>"I don't deny he might have come down," the man ran on, "but all the +same no report has reached us."</p> + +<p>"That's mighty curious," I said with assumed thoughtfulness. "Now I come +to think of it, it struck me at the time that you people hadn't followed +the matter up. I meant to ask Mr. Bryce about it, but the matter went +clean out of my mind, and it was just this moment that I recollected it. +It does seem a bit of a puzzler."</p> + +<p>"If you tell me all that happened, Mr. Carstairs," the sergeant +suggested, "it might help us a bit. There's something very like a motive +in this."</p> + +<p>I gave him a rather sketchy account of the night of the burglar's visit, +but, without actually giving a false description of the burglar himself, +I so drew him that he would be difficult to recognise. I was swayed by +cautiousness more than anything else at the moment, but I fancy that +deep down in my mind was a primitive longing to settle with the man +without having recourse to the law. At any rate no policeman in the +country would have arrested him on the description I gave.</p> + +<p>"It's a pity he got away," said the sergeant when I'd finished. "It +looks as if he's the man. What was taken, Mr. Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"According to Mr. Bryce there wasn't anything even touched."</p> + +<p>"Looks as if Mr. Bryce had a past," the man said in a half-whisper meant +for my ears alone.</p> + +<p>I regarded the suggestion with alarm. "I don't see how that could be," I +told him. "I've known him for a good many years, and my father knew him +before that. But of course I've been in the Islands for close on to four +years, and something that I am unaware of may have occurred in that +time."</p> + +<p>"Just so," he agreed. "We'll see what Miss Drummond has to say."</p> + +<p>"Had your uncle any enemies that you know of?" she was asked.</p> + +<p>She answered the question with admirable adroitness. "My uncle was the +kindest of men," she said. "I can conceive of no reason why he should +have any enemies."</p> + +<p>I suppose our very apparent frankness threw the man off his guard, for +I'm perfectly satisfied that he could have tripped us up more than once +had he had the faintest suspicion that we were not telling the exact +truth. But we strove, rather successfully as it now appears, to twist +the truth to suit ourselves without actually telling a downright lie, +and we did it in a way that seemed to satisfy him, astute though he was. +I told him but one lie that evening, though as a matter of fact it was +much nearer the truth than anything else I had said, so strangely do +things fall out.</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond is Mr. Bryce's niece, isn't she?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's right," I said, and Moira nodded.</p> + +<p>"Now let me see," he ran on, ticking off the points on his fingers, "you +are an old friend of the family's. That's correct, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"That's so," I agreed.</p> + +<p>"Anything more?"</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand you," I said, with the faintest doubt at the +back of my mind. He spoke as if he knew or suspected something more than +I had told him.</p> + +<p>He looked at Moira and then at me, and I saw that he was smiling. It was +just the sort of smile that one would expect from that portion of the +world that loves a lover.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I said with a relief that I made no attempt to hide, "so you've +guessed it."</p> + +<p>"Guessed what?" Moira queried quickly, her face paling to a perceptible +degree.</p> + +<p>I turned to her with the cheeriest smile I could muster at the moment. +"He's guessed that we're engaged, Moira," I said. And the note of +exultation in my voice was more real than I had intended.</p> + +<p>"It's not the time to be rejoicing over such things," I rattled on, +"but—well, I suppose we're all young only once and we've got to make +the best of it."</p> + +<p>The sergeant was a gem of his kind, and even the nearness of a tragedy +and the rigidness of the rules that governed his daily life had not +crushed out of him that little touch of Nature that makes the whole +world kin. Thanks to the easiness of my manner and his own ready +stumbling into the trap I had not set for him, he now looked upon me as +nothing more than a love-sick youth with no eyes for anyone or anything +save the girl who occupied his heart. If the man could only have seen +what was in my mind, if by any chance he had overheard our conversation +on the morning of the burglary, how quickly he would have changed his +good opinion of us both. But luckily he was no mind-reader, and my +little piece of bluff achieved more success than was its due.</p> + +<p>"You needn't worry about anything," he said with an almost paternal note +in his voice. "We police have certain duties to carry out, but we're +human after all, and anything I can do as a man and a brother I'll be +only too pleased to have you ask."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said, with gratitude that was less than half feigned.</p> + +<p>The divisional surgeon gave it as his opinion that death had been +practically instantaneous. The bullet had entered the wall of the chest +a little too close to the heart to be pleasant. The doctor did tell me +just what else had happened, but either he did not make himself clear or +I have forgotten it.</p> + +<p>Presently a couple of the police who had been put on the trail of the +fugitive returned and reported nothing doing. The garden just outside +the window was a good deal trampled about, and there were footmarks in +plenty on the soft soil, but, as the sergeant remarked, "Footmarks are +like finger prints—they're no use unless you know who made them." All +things considered, it looked as if our man had got clean away again. I +had a fancy that neither Moira nor I had seen the last of him. Standing +there in the very room that had witnessed the tragedy, with the body of +the murdered man hanging limply in the chair, the lifeless clay scarcely +yet cold, it came to me with something of the clearness of prophecy that +this was not the end but the beginning of the play. It was something +closely akin to second sight, and for the moment the spaciousness of the +vision that I saw but dimly thrilled me with its possibilities. I knew, +though how I knew I cannot say even at this distant date, that the calm, +silent policemen with their helmets in their hands, the earnest, +energetic divisional surgeon, and his confrère the sergeant, even the +dead man himself, were but the merest supers in the prelude to +adventure. Moira and I were the only ones who were real, the only actors +that were something more than mummers. Yet even I failed to see that +what had happened that night was something more than a queer insoluble +mystery. There was nothing in my experience to tell me that it was +vitally connected with the early history of Victoria, that it had its +being in the now far-off days before Australia became a nation. I think +if any supernatural whisper of the truth had reached me that I would not +have been surprised, but that is the most that I can say.</p> + +<p>I came back abruptly to reality to find a cold wind blowing in through +the crack in the window. The doctor and the two policemen between them +were lifting Bryce out of the chair he would never more occupy, and I, +with my profounder knowledge of death and its consequences, saw just +what they were going to do.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better take Miss Drummond outside for the present," I +whispered to the sergeant. The man nodded, and, taking Moira by the arm, +I led her from the room.</p> + +<p>"It would be better if you could go to bed," I suggested.</p> + +<p>She shook her head wearily. "I can't, Jim. It's no good trying to +persuade me. I just couldn't."</p> + +<p>"I think I understand," I said softly.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel sorry a bit, Jim. I know it's a strange thing to say, but +it's the truth, and there it is. I couldn't summon a tear. But just +inside me there's a vacancy, a sense of loss. He's gone out of my life, +and I'll never meet anyone who'll quite take his place. I can't put what +I mean into so many words, but I think you can understand. You're quick +at understanding, Jim. I don't feel sorry a bit, and I don't want to +cry, somehow; but I'll miss him dreadfully. I'm hard in some ways, Jim. +I must be terribly devoid of affection."</p> + +<p>I made no answer to that. My thoughts were on one summer's evening +four—or was it five?—years ago, and in the light of what had happened +then I could scarcely contradict her now.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," I said abruptly, "that I had to tell that lie about our +being engaged. But I had to be as natural as I could, and the more +obvious an explanation I gave the better for us all."</p> + +<p>She looked at me for a moment with unutterable things in the depths of +her golden-brown eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," she said slowly, "that you had to tell a lie."</p> + +<p>I took her remark as the natural corollary of mine, but some +sub-conscious sense in me insisted that its very ambiguity was designed.</p> + +<p>Almost at that moment I heard footsteps in the hall, and knew that the +servants had just come home. The big clock in the hall chimed ten.</p> + +<p>"There's the women," I said. "You'd better tell them, and see they don't +make a scene."</p> + +<p>Moira nodded and went down the hall to meet them.</p> + +<p>There is little more to relate of this phase of my story. Naturally +there was an inquest, and just as naturally was a verdict returned of +"death at the hands of a person or persons unknown," or words to that +effect. The situation, in fine, was that Bryce was dead and buried, and +the police admitted that they held no clue to the identity of the +murderer. Motive there was none as far as they could see, and the whole +affair looked like one of these senseless crimes that from time to time +startle the city folk from their easy-going equanimity. The matter was +not even a nine-days' wonder, for other things occupied the attention of +the press, and a stickful was the most it ever got in any paper.</p> + +<p>I stayed on in the house at Moira's request and attended to several +matters that were rather outside her province. The old man turned out +not to be as rich as we had thought, though he had money enough in +truth. The bulk of this went to Moira, with the curious proviso that she +could not invest it in any way without first submitting the proposal to +me and receiving my sanction. The will was of recent date, as a matter +of fact it had been drawn up within a few days of Moira's arrival. There +was a sum left to me, too, enough to make me independent for a good many +years to come.</p> + +<p>Moira's mother arrived the day after the tragedy, and showed no very +evident intention of returning home. She was very nice to me, but then +there was no reason why she should have been anything else. Any strain +that there had been, and was still for that matter, was between her +daughter and myself, and, like a wise mother, she forebore from +interfering in what did not immediately concern her.</p> + +<p>For my own sake, if for no other reason, I hurried along the winding-up +of Bryce's affairs. I saw, or fancied I saw, that the sooner I left the +house the better would Moira be pleased. For when all was said and done +there could be no denying that things were far from satisfactory. +Neither of us made any further reference to my bare-faced lying on that +ill-starred night, but the more I thought of it the more equivocal did +the present situation seem. I for one was doubly glad when at last we +finished with the lawyers, and things—blessed, indefinite word—seemed +like to settle down again.</p> + +<p>My time of departure was no further off than twenty-four hours away when +the incident occurred that led to a hurried readjustment of my plans and +that brought us, willy-nilly, to the Valley—for so I still persist in +calling it, as if there were not another valley in the world—and the +treasure that lay there and helped us to unravel the tangled threads of +Bryce's past life.</p> + +<p>I had my bag already packed, and had announced that I was going the next +evening, when Moira stayed me with a word.</p> + +<p>"I've been meaning to talk to you for a long time," she said, "but +somehow I could never seem to summon up enough courage. It's about Uncle +and ... well, you know as well as I do, that there was some mystery +about him."</p> + +<p>"Go on," I said.</p> + +<p>"Well, he told me once that if ever anything happened to him we would +find documents in his room that would help us to take up the work where +he left off. He repeated that the very night he died. Don't you see what +that means?"</p> + +<p>"It means that they are still there," I said soberly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VII" id="Chapter_VII"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VII.</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCING MR. ALBERT CUMSHAW.</h3> + + +<p>"That's the peculiar part of it, Jim. They should still be in the room, +because they couldn't possibly have been taken away. Yet I've hunted +high and low and I can't find them."</p> + +<p>"And, now you find you're in difficulties, you call me in," I hinted.</p> + +<p>"Jim, I wish you wouldn't talk that way. There's no call for us to be +continually bickering. If we can't be anything else, at least we can be +friends, can't we?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's worth trying. But what have the papers to do with me?"</p> + +<p>"They affect you as well as me, Jim. Uncle wished the two of us to carry +on his work."</p> + +<p>"How pleasant!" I murmured. "And suppose I refuse?"</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, with just the least gesture of helplessness, "I'll +have to do whatever I can myself. But it was Uncle's wish that we divide +the proceeds."</p> + +<p>"The proceeds of what?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say, Jim. We've got to find the papers first."</p> + +<p>"That's so, Moira. Seeing it's you, I'll hunt for them; if it's worth +while I might even help you through, but you'll have to understand from +the very start that I won't finger a penny of what you call the +proceeds."</p> + +<p>"You usen't to be like that, Jim."</p> + +<p>"I've changed a lot, haven't I?" I grinned.</p> + +<p>For a moment she stared blankly at me, then she asked me, as if the +thought had just occurred to her, "There isn't any other girl, is +there?"</p> + +<p>"There never was any other girl," I said. "There was always only the +one, but she failed...."</p> + +<p>I saw that she had some intimate little revelation on the tip of her +tongue, so, for fear she might say too much—one never knows what a +woman will say if she fancies any words of hers will gain the day—I +said briskly, "Now, about those papers, Moira. Where did you look?"</p> + +<p>"Everywhere, Jim."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have. There's one place at least where you haven't +looked."</p> + +<p>"And that?" she queried eagerly.</p> + +<p>"The place where they're hidden," I answered disconcertingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said blankly; and then, "Have you any idea where that is?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "None at all, Moira. Still your uncle told you that +they were in his study, and as you say they couldn't have been taken +away, the only thing to do is to look in every likely place for a +start."</p> + +<p>"And if we find nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Then we'll look in the unlikely places. And as there's no time like the +present, I suggest we start now."</p> + +<p>Moira was quite agreeable to that, so we entered the room. Books and +everything lay just as we had left them the night of the tragedy; only +the broken window-pane had been taken out and a new one inserted.</p> + +<p>"I never thought of it before," I remarked, "but the sight of that new +pane just brought to my mind how narrow a squeak you had that night."</p> + +<p>"I don't follow you, Jim."</p> + +<p>"Well, if our friends the police hadn't been so willing to swallow the +obvious, they would have seen that my tale was all bunkum. When that +chap fired he starred the window, and when your shot went through it +finished the job and knocked a finger of glass right out. If the +sergeant had only gone over to the window and examined it carefully, he +would have seen enough to make him wonder how the deuce the same shot +could have hit the same bit of glass in two places. But he didn't go +over to examine it; I had filled his mind with an hypothesis, and he +couldn't see anything else but that. Now it's the same with this +business of looking for the papers. You seem to think your uncle would +put them just where anyone could lay hands on them. I don't. Your uncle +had a fair amount of foresight—he realised all along that it was likely +that he'd be cut off short—and the mere fact that he told you twice at +least that he had left you instructions shows that he had gone about +things carefully and methodically. Again, he had no means of knowing +just how he would be killed, so you can take it for granted that he +provided against such a contingency as this room being thoroughly +searched by the murderers. In other words, the papers are so placed that +only an intelligent person who knew your uncle's mind would guess where +the hiding place is. Now I'm having a wild shot at it, but it's logical +enough in all conscience. When you can't find a thing, try to take over +the mentality of the man who hid it."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you're getting too deep for me, Jim."</p> + +<p>"I'll put it another way, Moira. Something influenced your uncle in the +hiding-place he selected, and we've got to parallel his thoughts, if we +can, in order to find out the spot."</p> + +<p>"But that's impossible."</p> + +<p>"At first glance it seems like it. But just think the matter over. I've +got more than half an idea already. Whatever those papers are they're +certainly typewritten, and I'm sure they've something to do with that +bit of wood. Oh, I forgot. I've never told you about that. It happened +on the beach."</p> + +<p>"Uncle told me how he met you," Moira volunteered.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet he didn't say anything about the driftwood though."</p> + +<p>"No, he did not," Moira admitted. So then and there I told her the tale. +"You can understand from that," I concluded, "that whatever he was +typing had something to do with that piece of wood. Now when he had made +up his mind to secrete the papers two words would be prominent in his +thoughts."</p> + +<p>"I know," she said with a flash of intuition.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," I smiled.</p> + +<p>"'Sands' and 'wood,'" she said eagerly.</p> + +<p>"'Wood' is one of them," I answered, "but I rather prefer to say 'bury' +for the other. Now the only place he could bury anything about here in +such a way that it wouldn't be noticed is under the hearthstone; but, as +it's cement in this case, I think we can leave it out of the question. +He wouldn't put them under the floor. For one thing it'd take too long, +and the sweepers would be sure to notice if the carpet or the linoleum +had been disturbed. So that brings us back to 'wood' again."</p> + +<p>"How about the wall? A secret panel, or something of the kind?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think he'd select anything so obvious," I said with a shake of +my head. "It had to be a place that we'd find, but that everyone else +would miss. There's quite a lot of wooden articles here, Moira, so we'll +go over them very carefully."</p> + +<p>I surveyed the furniture ruefully. "Looks as if we'll have to chop a lot +of things to pieces," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"Silly!" said Moira Drummond disgustedly. "We're looking for something +hollow, so why not tap?"</p> + +<p>"Brilliant idea!" I said.</p> + +<p>As I sit writing at this table in that very same room, the scene comes +back to me with all the clearness of a well-developed photograph. In my +mind's eye I see Moira and myself on our knees tapping every inch of the +old mahogany and the newer imitation Chippendale, and I realise as I +have realised a dozen times since to what needless trouble we went, when +a little thought upon the lines that I have already mapped out would +have led us just as easily, and perhaps a good deal quicker, to the very +spot itself. But we were young then—though for that matter we are +still—and to young people all motion is progress. It is only when one +gets older and sees things in perspective that one realises.... But that +wasn't what I set out to write about.</p> + +<p>The long and short of it was that we tapped all the furniture most +carefully, and at the end of it found that our persistence was still +unrewarded.</p> + +<p>"There's something wrong somewhere," Moira said disappointedly.</p> + +<p>"It seems as if there's been a mistake in our judgment," I agreed. +"Still I fancy the table's the most likely place. You see he sat there +always."</p> + +<p>"Suppose you sit in his place then, Jim."</p> + +<p>"Excellent idea, Moira," I said, and at once proceeded to put it into +practice.</p> + +<p>"Now if I had just finished typing anything and was looking for a safe +place to hide it, where would I naturally go?" I said out aloud. Moira +dropped into a chair on the other side of the table and leaned forward, +her chin resting in her hand, and regarded me with intense interest. I +went on talking to myself. "I'm thinking of wood, and the nearest wood +to me is the table. Therefore I'd hide it somewhere about the table, not +in or on it, but just about it."</p> + +<p>Moira's eyes glowed—I remember that particularly—and we both must have +seized on the idea at one and the same instant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't we think of it before?" she cried, and then the two of +us were on our knees and groping under the table. It was a massive piece +of furniture in its way, with a large cross-piece running from side to +side underneath. And on this cross-piece, so tied with string that it +could not slip off, was a tiny packet of oil-skin.</p> + +<p>"The safest place in the house," I said, as I stood upright and held out +a helping hand to Moira. "No one would ever think of looking there. See +how nearly we missed it."</p> + +<p>"Jim, Jim, let's have a look!" she begged.</p> + +<p>My answer was to place the package in my pocket. "Not here," I said in +explanation. "You must remember that those murdering gentlemen aren't +accounted for yet, and it'd be a pity to let them get hold of the very +thing we've been keeping out of their clutches for so long."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of that," she said with a crestfallen air. "Of course +you're right. But where'll we go?"</p> + +<p>"Any of the inner rooms. The drawing-room, say. That hasn't got any +windows opening out on to the garden."</p> + +<p>Moira caught my arm. "Come on, Jim," she cried, "I'm dying to know what +is in it."</p> + +<p>"The more haste the less speed," I remarked soberly. "Likewise there's +many a slip between the cup and the lip."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Jim, don't be pessimistic just when everything's beginning to +turn out well."</p> + +<p>"Beginning," I repeated. "You're right there. We're just beginning now."</p> + +<p>But all the same she did not take her hand off my arm, and when hers +slipped through mine in quite the good old way, I could not find it in +my heart to tell her that she must do no such thing.</p> + +<p>The drawing-room was just as comfortable a place as a man could wish, +and I saw at a glance that there was no likelihood of our being +disturbed there.</p> + +<p>I held the packet in my hands for I don't know how many seconds, almost +afraid to open it. Inside was the secret that had lost Bryce his life, +the secret that had cost, though I did not know it at the time, almost a +dozen lives, and that would bring two at least of our associates +perilously close to the grave before our work was ended. Moira shared +some of my hesitation, for she made no effort to hurry me into undoing +the packet, but stood awaiting my pleasure.</p> + +<p>The string was tied so tightly that I could not unknot it. I drew my +knife and cut it, and the oil-skin unrolled of itself. The first thing I +came across was a letter from Bryce addressed to the two of us. It was +not contained in an envelope, but seemed to have been slipped in as an +after-thought. It ran:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Moira and Dear Jimmy,—</p> + +<p>If you ever read this it will be because I am no more and have +failed to bring my plans to a successful conclusion. In that case I +look to the two of you to carry on from the point where I left off, +but because you are both young, and so have very little sense, I +don't intend to let either of you fall into an easy thing. There's +money at the back of this, enough to make you rich for life, but +you'll have to use the brains you both have got and work like the +very dickens to get it. I've put some of the necessary directions +in a cypher that a child could read, but apart from that you'll +have to use your heads. As you know some things that Moira doesn't, +Jimmy, and vice versa, you can see that it won't pay either of you +to quarrel.</p> + +<p>The man who really holds the key to the situation is a gentleman +named Abel Cumshaw. Abel, I understand, is in his second childhood, +and can never be brought to realise that it is any later than the +early eighties, but his son Albert is a most astonishing young +fellow, as you'll find when you meet him, if you have not already +done so before this falls into your hands. You see I have +sufficient confidence in your ability to believe that you will find +this package sooner or later. If it's too late when you do find it, +of course the joke'll be on the pair of you.</p> + +<p>Now, a word to you, Moira. Jimmy knows the hidden valley quite +well, so don't believe him if he says he doesn't. I spent nearly an +hour the other day telling him all about it, and even went the +length of showing him a map of the place. If he doesn't help you +out, it's because he's got a bad memory.</p> + +<p>As for yourself, Jimmy, remember that you can't get along without +Moira and don't try. Once you've found what you're looking for you +can each go your own way, but I rather fancy you won't want to +then. I think that's about all, unless to remind you that Mr. +Albert Cumshaw will be entitled to his fair share of the spoils.</p></div> + +<p>And on that note the letter ended, and underneath was his sprawling +signature, "H. Bryce," written as firmly as ever he had written it.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you make of that?" I asked when I had finished reading +it.</p> + +<p>"I—I——"</p> + +<p>"I know," I cut in. "I feel that way too. Do you think he's put up a +joke on us?"</p> + +<p>"I just don't want to speak about it," Moira said tearfully. +"It's—it's—I wouldn't have expected it of him."</p> + +<p>"It's the unexpected that happens," I said with some idea that I was +consoling her. I could see that the tears were very near her eyes, and I +didn't want her to break down now and cry. A man is always at a great +disadvantage in dealing with a weeping woman; she can usually persuade +him to do almost anything for her while she's in that state. If I find +my wife crying—but it doesn't matter what I'd do, for I've no right to +be introducing purely speculative matter that has nothing at all to do +with the story.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't explain anything," Moira said at length. "It only makes +everything worse than ever."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't say that," I said. I saw, or thought I saw, a glimmer of +light. It was so faint that I daren't as yet put it into words. "He must +have been in a rather frivolous mood when he wrote this," I continued. +"All the same, I think we're getting closer. We haven't looked at the +cypher yet, you know."</p> + +<p>"No more we have, Jim. Let's see what it's like."</p> + +<p>I handed it to her. At first sight I could have sworn that it was the +identical piece of paper that I had picked up from the kitchen floor +that momentous afternoon, but a second glance showed me that I was +mistaken. Many of the characters were the same, but the grouping was +altogether different. They ran as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@3 @75 £994 1/4; £ 5@3 48-1/2-8;? 1/2-7; +1/4-43 8; &8;3 —3-1/4-1/2-743 1/2-3: 3; "335 3-1/4-1/2-5.5@3; +"1/4-/3 £843/5 ;945@3/4 £4-1/4-2 1/4;95@34 &8;3 1/4-5 48?@5 +1/4;?&3-1/2 59 5@3 043:897-1/2 9;3 3)53; £8;? "94 523&:3 "335.£8? +5@3.</p></div> + +<p>"It doesn't seem to mean anything, Jim," she said in consternation.</p> + +<p>"I'll admit it's pretty hard to understand," I told her. "It looks like +a page out of a ready reckoner or a mathematician's nightmare. But it +does mean something or your uncle wouldn't have put it up to us. What it +is we've got to find out. Possibly the Mr. Cumshaw of the letter can +throw a little light on the subject."</p> + +<p>"Who is Mr. Cumshaw, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"I never heard of the man until I read this letter," I said. "He's a new +element in the plot, and, unless your uncle's pulling our legs, I think +he's going to be a very important factor."</p> + +<p>"He's got to share with us, too," she reminded me.</p> + +<p>"Share with you," I corrected. "I've told you a couple of times already +that I'll help you to it, but that I don't intend to take a penny of the +money. So, when you're figuring it out, remember it's halves, not +thirds, you're working on."</p> + +<p>"If it was anybody else but me you'd take it quickly enough," she said +accusingly.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I would and again maybe I wouldn't," I said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jim, I hate you!" she cried in a sudden blaze of temper.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," I said easily. "It doesn't take much to make you hate +seemingly."</p> + +<p>She turned and faced me with one of those swift changes of front that +made her so hard to deal with. The white-hot anger had gone as suddenly +as it had come, and in its place there was nothing but hopelessness. She +looked so weary and so miserable that for the moment I was tempted to +take her in my arms and tell her that the past did not matter any more +than did the future. But the memory of the words with which she had +driven me out of her life that summer's evening long ago lashed me like +a whip, and in an instant I had hardened my heart.</p> + +<p>"Why do you make it so hard for me, Jim?" she moaned. "If only you would +help me a little."</p> + +<p>"I'm helping you all I can," I said with a touch of cynicism in my +voice. "You can count on me until the adventure's finished."</p> + +<p>"You know I don't mean that," she said weakly.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing else you can mean," I answered stubbornly.</p> + +<p>For the space of a heart-beat we stood facing each other. I saw that she +was on the verge of a breakdown, and I knew that my own resolution was +failing. After all, what need was there for me to be so brutal? She had +suffered more than enough for the idle words spoken in haste all those +years ago. There is no knowing what might have happened had not Fate +intervened. But just as things had reached breaking-strain the door-bell +rang. The prosaic sound brought us back instantly to earth, and a +dramatic situation, tense with possibilities, became in a moment +common-place.</p> + +<p>"There's the door-bell," Moira said calmly. "I wonder who it can be."</p> + +<p>"Some visitor or other," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"What visitor could it be?" she asked. "I know of no one who'd have +business here."</p> + +<p>I knew of one at least, but I did not put my thoughts into words. +Instead I remarked, "Quite possibly it's some house-hunter."</p> + +<p>We heard the maid's steps go up the hall past us. There was a whispered +colloquy at the door, and then, quite distinctly, the maid's voice said, +"I'll see if he is in."</p> + +<p>"That must be me," I guessed. "I'm the only 'he' in the house."</p> + +<p>"But who knows you're here?" Moira objected.</p> + +<p>"That's right," I said. "Who does?"</p> + +<p>I opened the door of the room and looked out. The maid, who was coming +down the passage, caught sight of me. "There's a gentleman wishes to see +you, Mr. Carstairs," she announced.</p> + +<p>"Show him in here," I said.</p> + +<p>I turned back into the room. "You'd better stop here, Moira," I said as +she made a movement to go. "It can't be anything private. It's just as +likely that it's something that interests you too."</p> + +<p>She sat down again.</p> + +<p>The maid ushered the newcomer into the room. I ran my eye over him as I +advanced to meet him. He was small and dapper, and his air of +self-possession was almost perfect. His features were clean-cut, dark +eyes glowed in a face that had evidently been exposed to the weather for +many years, and his brow was surmounted by a mass of black curls.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Carstairs?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That's me," I said truthfully but ungrammatically.</p> + +<p>"This will explain my business," he said, and handed me a piece of +pasteboard. I took it from him; it was one of Bryce's visiting cards, +and scribbled across the foot of it were these words:—"Introducing Mr. +Albert Cumshaw. H. Bryce."</p> + +<p>"I've been expecting you, Mr. Cumshaw," I said. "I've been expecting you +for some days now."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact I hadn't, but it is always a good rule to allow the +other man to think you know everything.</p> + +<p>"Moira," I said, "this is the Mr. Cumshaw we've been waiting for. Mr. +Cumshaw, Miss Drummond."</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meet you," he said and looked as if he meant it.</p> + +<p>"Take a seat, Mr. Cumshaw," I said, and when he had accepted a chair, +"What can I do for you?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>He looked curiously from one to the other of us as if to seek an +inspiration. "I presume Mr. Bryce is not about," he said at length.</p> + +<p>"Well, hardly," I answered. "He's been dead this last couple of weeks." +It was longer than that in reality, but I mentioned the first period +that came into my head. Anyway, it didn't matter much how long it was +since he died; nothing could make him any the less dead now.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mr. Cumshaw quietly, as though my news was just what he had +been expecting all along. "It is most regrettable," he added.</p> + +<p>"Now what can I do for you?" I persisted.</p> + +<p>"Touching the little matter of the gold escort," he said and fixed me +with a glowing eye.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the gold escort, Mr. Cumshaw. What about it!"</p> + +<p>He did not answer that immediately, but eyed both Moira and me as if to +test our receptive capacities. I maintained an attitude of complete +indifference; Moira leaned forward a little with interest plainly marked +in every line of her face.</p> + +<p>"You were both in Mr. Bryce's confidence?" His quiet remark took the +form of a question.</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"Go on," Moira urged. "You came to tell us about your father, Mr. Abel +Cumshaw."</p> + +<p>"That's right," said the young man with amazing alacrity. "You're all +right too. I wasn't sure at first, but now I see you're in the game with +me. From what I know of it we're all like pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. We +all fit in, and none of us is any use without the others. That being so, +I fancy that we had better all place our cards on the table. Now which +of you has got the cypher?"</p> + +<p>Moira looked at me for guidance. I was pleased to see that she was +learning that she couldn't do without me. I was pleased—no, I wasn't +pleased at all, for it didn't matter now what Moira thought of me.</p> + +<p>"What cypher is that?" I enquired innocently.</p> + +<p>"There is only one cypher, Mr. Carstairs," Mr. Cumshaw stated. He seemed +so sure about it that my curiosity was aroused.</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" I said politely. I knew better than to contradict him +outright, so I did it by implication.</p> + +<p>"There's only the one," the young man repeated. "You should know, +because Mr. Bryce left it to you."</p> + +<p>If I had had any doubts before as to the genuine character of my visitor +they all vanished at that last remark of his. It was one of those things +that a man could not have guessed, however clever he might be. He must +have had inside knowledge. Hitherto I had been indulging in that +pleasant pastime that is known in boxing circles as "sparring for wind," +but now I dropped the pose completely and answered him as +straightforwardly as was consistent with reasonable caution.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did leave a cypher to me," I admitted. "But what do you know +about it?"</p> + +<p>"Only what Mr. Bryce wrote me. I'm sorry I can't show you the letter, +but Mr. Bryce had an invariable rule that all correspondence from him +must be burnt as soon as read."</p> + +<p>"I guess I've got to accept you at your face value, Mr. Cumshaw," I +said. "You'll pardon me for doubting you at first, but it pays to be +cautious in a game like this. Now I'd like to know just how we are going +to assist each other."</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say," the young man smiled. "If I tell you the +story from start to finish, maybe you'll get a better idea of what we're +after."</p> + +<p>"Would it take long?" I said diffidently. "It's fairly late now."</p> + +<p>"If Mr. Cumshaw would stop to tea," Moira suggested, and looked to me +for approval of her proposition. Under the circumstances there was only +one thing for me to do, so I did it.</p> + +<p>"You'll greatly oblige us if you stop," I said. "That is if it won't be +causing any inconvenience?" I added questioningly.</p> + +<p>"None at all," he said cheerily. "Nothing of this sort ever +inconveniences me"—this latter with a glance at Moira.</p> + +<p>"So that's the game, is it, young man?" I said to myself. "Well, here's +luck to you."</p> + +<p>Aloud I said, "I am pleased to hear it." The funny part of it all was +that I really meant it. There was something open and honest about the +man himself, there was a healthful glow in his dark eyes, and he had a +way of looking at one that was the very essence of frankness itself. +Without knowing more of him than I had learnt in the few minutes we had +been conversing, I felt that he was as open as the day. In this case at +least my first impressions were more than justified by the course of +events.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw stopped to tea and made himself very much at home, and +afterwards he told us the story of the gold escort. I have not set out +his tale as we heard it that evening. For one thing he only related what +he happened to know about the matter, and as a result there were many +little blanks he had to leave unfilled. But with the completion of our +enterprise many additional facts have come to light, and so it is that, +with Mr. Cumshaw's aid and at his suggestion, I give here a fuller and +more comprehensive version of the affair than he related to us that +evening.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II.</h2> + +<h3><i>THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW.</i></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_Ia" id="Chapter_Ia"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> I.</h2> + +<h3>NIGHTFALL.</h3> + + +<p>Far away to the west the fiery globe of the setting sun dropped lazily +down to rest behind the quaint goblin peaks of the Grampians. Its last +lingering rays touched their summits with a crimson glow, flooded the +valleys with garish light, and even penetrated into the recesses of the +nearby woodlands until the whole place seemed to blaze as with the red +fire of Hell. It was not a peaceful sunset; it did not even hold the +promise of peace. It was alive and active, in the sense that light can +live, and one could but feel that its potency was malignant and assured. +There were clouds aplenty in the sky, light clouds looking as if they +had been trailed through red ink, but there was nothing about them to +suggest that a storm was brewing, or that even the slightest change in +the weather could be expected. Nevertheless the air contained a hint of +evil, so much so that an imaginative person would have peopled the hills +with gnomes and the woods with devils. Even had fairies existed in the +glades, one would have instinctively known them to be bad fairies. Yet +one could not say offhand whence or from whom the evil that was to be, +would originate; all earth and sky seemed somehow to be in the dread +conspiracy.</p> + +<p>The lurid hues of the sunset flared and faded into the drabber colors of +twilight, the shadows swept down in phalanxes from the hills, and the +still lifeless trees, stirring in the evening breeze, became black +mocking shapes of infamy. The yellow disc of a moon, climbing up over +the woods, took on the semblance of the leering face of a drunken man.</p> + +<p>The two men who presently came riding along through the tangled +fastnesses of what a couple of score years or more ago were the +untenanted and, to a great extent, the unexplored depths of a Victorian +forest, were very evidently unaffected by the grim fancies of the +evening. They were not laughing certainly, and when they spoke it was in +whispers, but the younger man hummed a music-hall tune under his breath. +There was something rakish, not to say reckless, in the way the elder +sat his mount. They went carefully, though, taking every possible +precaution against making needless noise. Once the horse of the elder +man stumbled and set a stone rolling down a declivity. Both men reined +in instantly and listened until the echoes died away in the distance.</p> + +<p>"You're as nervous as a rabbit, Jack," the younger man remarked when +presently they resumed their journey. "Every little sound seems to +startle you."</p> + +<p>"There's no sense in taking chances, man," said the one called Jack.</p> + +<p>"If it comes to that there's no chances to take."</p> + +<p>"Only that of being caught and hanged, Abel."</p> + +<p>"There's not much hope of that," Abel Cumshaw replied. "Gentry like +ourselves are rather out of fashion now since they've squashed the +Kellys. The country's quietened down a lot, and a 'ranger's supposed to +be a thing of the past. As it is, there's never been bushrangers in this +part of the State, and what hasn't been is the least likely to happen in +most people's estimation."</p> + +<p>"I'm with you there, Abel," Jack said. "But even that's no reason why we +shouldn't go carefully. You must remember that we don't know this part +of the State too well. That's the beauty of it, I suppose. Nobody knows +it very much."</p> + +<p>"It'll make pursuit difficult," the other suggested. "But what I can't +understand is why the banks should send so much gold across country when +there's the railway."</p> + +<p>"The railway, friend Cumshaw, isn't the safest route. There's just as +clever men working that as used to be working the stages. Moreover, this +cross-country route's much the quicker way of the two."</p> + +<p>"For which we may thank the Lord," said Abel Cumshaw, with cheerful +impiety.</p> + +<p>"Time enough to thank the Lord," the other retorted, "when we've +finished the job successfully. All the same, I wish we had a pack +horse."</p> + +<p>"If we had brought a pack-horse," said Cumshaw, "we'd have had half the +country-side wondering what the deuce was up. Like as not they'd think +there was a new gold-strike on."</p> + +<p>"And they wouldn't have been wrong in that," the other answered with +grim humor. "But let's get to the business of the evening, Abel. I've +got a good idea to put the pursuers off the scent, that is, if there's +any pursuit."</p> + +<p>"Out with it, then," said Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>The elder man reined in his horse, and, leaning over, whispered in his +companion's ear. As the tale proceeded a cheerful grin spread over +Cumshaw's face.</p> + +<p>"That'll do fine," he said gleefully. "You almost make me wish they do +pursue us just for the fun of seeing them fall in."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to be gained by being foolhardy," the elder man warned +him. "Now we can't afford to waste time. Let us get to work at once."</p> + +<p>Without more ado he led the way down through the tangle of forest and +across the open glades until they reached the narrow track that wound +like a monstrous brown ribbon through the enormous gums. At the edge of +the road they both dismounted and tethered their horses to convenient +trees. Then, stepping very gingerly, and taking extreme care not to +leave any footprints on the dusty surface of the track, they groped +about on the roadside. Presently they both returned to the horses, each +of them carrying an armful of heavy stones which they loaded carefully +into the enormous saddle-bags that dangled one on each side of the +saddle-flaps.</p> + +<p>"That should about do it," Cumshaw remarked, when this was completed.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," the other answered curtly. He sprang to the saddle, loosed +the reins that had tethered the animal, and setting his spurs deep into +its flank galloped up the track for a matter of a hundred yards or so, +closely followed by his companion. Then they turned sharply off into the +bush, designedly traversing the soft impressionable ground. The +heavily-laden horses floundered in the soft soil, and gradually the pace +dropped away from a gallop to a canter, and finally to a walk. When +nearly two miles of this sort of country had been covered, the two men +reined in and dismounted. Next they unloaded the stones from the +saddle-bags and hid them carefully in the undergrowth. Cumshaw then +proceeded to cut his thick blanket into strips, each of about eighteen +inches square. There were eight of these strips in all—four he kept +himself and the others he handed to his companion.</p> + +<p>"It's a smart enough dodge, all right," the man remarked. "The only +possible flaw in it is that there might be some gentleman present who's +dealt with cattle-duffers in the past. If so, he'd be pretty sure to +scent our little game, and block it."</p> + +<p>"Let's hope for the best," said Mr. Cumshaw, cheerfully, looking up from +his work with a smile that even the darkness of the night could not +hide. He was systematically wrapping the squares of blankets round the +hoofs of his mount and securing them in such a way that they would +remain fast even during a wild gallop over rough country. The trick +itself was an old one; it had its origin many years previous in Texas +and Arizona when the raiding Indians made their horses walk over +blankets spread on the ground in order to hide the direction of their +retreat. The idea had been adopted and developed by the Australian +cattle-duffers to meet the exigencies of the country they worked in. The +trick therefore was by no means a new one, and there was just a chance, +as the man Jack remarked, that someone might drop to it. But the false +hoof-prints were an unprecedented addition that would probably keep the +pursuers long enough on the wrong scent to enable the precious pair to +"escape" and "cache" their plunder.</p> + +<p>It was characteristic of the two men that once they had taken all +precautions they quietly dismissed the matter from their minds and rode +slowly back to the roadway with scarce a thought for the business in +hand. Abel Cumshaw would have whistled had he dared; as it was he hummed +softly to himself. The moon was now well up in the heavens, and its +fitful light creeping through the leafy roof above, made gibbering +ghosts of the swaying gums. Mr. Abel Cumshaw and his companion, Jack +Bradby, had been brought up in the Australian bush, their nerves were as +steady as a rock, and where others saw grim visions of fancy they saw +only waving bushes and stripped gums. Though the present adventure was +their first essay in ranging, both of them had lived by their wits, or +rather by others' want of wits, for more years than were good for them. +Singly or together they had run other people's sheep and cattle and made +a lucrative, if dishonest, living at the game, and during their visits +to the towns had made it a point of warped honor to pay their expenses +with the ill-gotten gold of some duller fellow-creature. On top of it +all they had a carelessness of life and a free hand with their +easily-earned wealth that found them friends wherever they went.</p> + +<p>Bradby pulled up suddenly and held up his hand in warning to his +companion. Some faint noise had caught his ear, and, excellent bushman +that he was, he would not rest content until he had located and defined +it. Silently as a shadow he slipped from his saddle and dropped +recumbent on the ground. With one ear to the earth beneath he listened. +He remained in this posture for perhaps a minute and a half, then he +rose abruptly and turned to Mr. Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>"Horses," he said laconically.</p> + +<p>"Must be them," Mr. Cumshaw replied with almost equal brevity.</p> + +<p>Deftly, and without haste of any sort, each man knotted a red and white +spotted handkerchief across the lower half of his face, leaving only the +eyes and forehead visible. Then each tilted his hat so that the shadow +thrown by the brim shrouded the uncovered portion of the face. Mr. +Cumshaw, with the amazing simplicity of a conjurer, produced a pair of +ugly-looking revolvers from apparent nothingness, while his companion +slipped his holsters round so that his weapons were within easy and +immediate reach. He did not, however, remount his horse, but threw the +reins to Mr. Cumshaw, who draped them over his arm in such a way that +they did not hamper his movements in the least.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The little group of horsemen, four, or perhaps five in all, clattered +down the track as unsuspiciously as a man could wish. They were chatting +quite easily, even joyously, of the thousand and one little matters that +supplied their daily lives with interest, and nothing must have been +further from their thoughts than what actually occurred. The bank that +had sent them had departed from all precedent in parcelling out the gold +amongst the messengers. It was certainly against the rather strict +regulations of the bank, but the man who had instructed them had that +contempt for rules and regulations which is the mark of a man destined +to rise in the world.</p> + +<p>"The expense of sending you," he had said, "is certainly no greater than +that of the recognised method of forwarding by coach. The security of my +method is even greater as you are not at all open to suspicion."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, all would have gone well had not one of the chosen +messengers been a little too fond of his nightly drink, and more or less +inclined to talk when in his cups. True, on this particular evening he +had exercised a kind of maudlin caution, but the tactics of Mr. Jack +Bradby were of the sort to extract valuable information in the least +noticeable way possible, and as a consequence the man, while keeping a +strict guard of his tongue, at the same time let fall enough information +to satisfy the curiosity of the 'ranger.</p> + +<p>The first intimation the little cavalcade had of the presence of the +knights of the road was when a shadow moved out from behind a huge gum +and a clear resounding voice invited them to halt or take the +consequences. With one accord the riders pulled up, one man swore +violently, and the hand of another dropped round to his belt in a +hesitant manner. But Mr. Jack Bradby had eyes like an eagle, for he +cried sharply, "Put your hands up instantly!"</p> + +<p>All the men shot their hands skywards with a precision that could not +have been bettered by weeks of training.</p> + +<p>"You look ever so much better like that," said Mr. Jack Bradby +pleasantly. "Just keep still. I'd hate to make corpses of any of +you—you all look so much better alive."</p> + +<p>The humor of this was apparently lost on the captured ones, for they +received it in silence, much to Mr. Bradby's disgust.</p> + +<p>"Laugh when I crack a joke!" he roared. "Laugh, all of you, damn you!"</p> + +<p>Somebody giggled in a half-hearted manner.</p> + +<p>"That's no sort of a laugh," snorted Mr. Bradby. "When I say laugh, I +mean laugh. I don't want you to bubble like that jackass did." He +indicated the giggler with one of his ugly-looking revolvers. "Now laugh +altogether as if you meant it. One, two, three; off you go!"</p> + +<p>They all roared at that, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in their +voices. Mr. Bradby, however, passed that over and proceeded to the +business of the evening.</p> + +<p>"Now please keep your hands in the same position," Mr. Bradby continued. +"You've got quite a lot of valuables in those saddle-bags of yours, and +I'm going to annex them. And don't any of you move a hand or foot or +you'll be shot before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' There's men in plenty +in among those trees, so don't play any hanky-panky tricks if you value +your lives."</p> + +<p>The scared horsemen with one accord glanced toward the trees that +fringed the road. Mr. Bradby had stage-managed the affair with such +consummate skill that they could only see the dim forms of several +horses. The shadows were cast so that it was impossible to say how many +there were; as far as the captives were concerned a regiment of cavalry +might have been massed behind the trees for all they could say to the +contrary. They had a feeling that unseen eyes watched them and invisible +firearms covered their every movement. A solitary ray of moonlight, +glinting for an instant on one of Cumshaw's revolvers lent color to this +suggestion, so like wise men they surrendered to the inevitable and +allowed the explosive Mr. Bradby to relieve them first of all of their +weapons, and, when he had "drawn their teeth," as he succinctly +expressed it, to rifle their saddle-bags for the little packages of gold +that it was their mission to guard with their lives. Life at all times +is dearer than gold, and the men realised that they were in a trap from +which there was only one way of escape. They submitted meekly to their +fate, saw the saddle-bags rifled without a word of protest, and, +deceived by the shadows, watched what they took to be half a dozen men +at least loading up with the gold. It speaks well for the dominant +personality of Mr. Bradby that no one seemed to have suspected that only +two men were concerned in the hold-up, despite the fact that they really +only saw one man and the shadowy outline of another.</p> + +<p>"Turn round, all of you!" Mr. Bradby commanded when the transfer had +been completed. "Turn round and keep your hands in the air!"</p> + +<p>Obediently, albeit clumsily, since they could not use their hands, the +horsemen wheeled their mounts around, and Mr. Bradby surveyed the scene +with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"You all look nice from the rear," he remarked. "Some of you've got real +fine backs. Just you keep like that now and see what the fairies'll send +you."</p> + +<p>So silently that he might have been a disembodied spirit he turned on +his heel, seized the reins Mr. Cumshaw threw him and vaulted into the +saddle. As softly as two shadows the horses melted into the night, their +muffled hoofs making no sound on the hard earth.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later one of the horsemen, grown tired of the unearthly +inaction and suspecting something of what had happened, slewed his head +round very cautiously. In a flash he realised the position and imparted +his discovery to his companions.</p> + +<p>"We can't follow them," the leader said. "We're unarmed. Furthermore +we've got no idea which way they went. The only thing we can do is to +get back to the nearest police station and report."</p> + +<p>The man who had first discovered the absence of the bushrangers had been +employing his time in examining the ground for traces of the gang, and +very shortly he came across the tracks that the precious pair had made +earlier in the evening. An exclamation from him drew the others to the +spot. By the flickering light of a match they inspected the hoof-marks, +and then the leader of the party gave vent to a snort of disgust.</p> + +<p>"There's only two of them," he said. "What fools we've been!"</p> + +<p>"They completely took us in," remarked another member of the party.</p> + +<p>"That's so," agreed a third, "but we can't make people understand. If we +tell them how two men stuck us up, we're going to look a lot of goats. I +For one think we'd better keep the number to ourselves, or, better +still, we might say that there was a big party of them."</p> + +<p>One or two demurred at this, but the bulk of the party knew well the +ridicule that the truth would attach to them, and the result was that +between them a story carrying the marks of probability was invented, +and, thus armed against the laughter of the State, the party set out for +the nearest town.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile Bradby and Cumshaw had doubled back on their tracks and +were heading for the Grampians. Though neither of them had explored the +mountains before, they were quite satisfied from what they knew of the +general formation of the country that there were gullies, even valleys, +where an army might lie hidden. So confident were the two adventurers +that there was no danger of pursuit that they did not press forward at +anything like a reasonable speed. They took things easy. Somewhere about +two o'clock in the morning they halted and removed the blanket-pads from +their horses' hoofs. Mr. Cumshaw was just going to throw them into the +bushes when Mr. Bradby stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that," he said, "we'd better destroy them outright."</p> + +<p>"How?" queried Abel.</p> + +<p>"Burn 'em, I should say," Mr. Bradby answered. "You make a good job of +it, and you don't leave anything behind. If you throw them away +someone's sure to find them just when it's most awkward for you. No, +Abel, burn them and hurry up about it."</p> + +<p>So it came about that presently a tiny spot of light glowed like a red +warning beacon from the lower slopes of the range. A lonely prospector, +a few miles to the east, saw the spark and wondered at it. He knew that +no one lived in that part of the country. The more he thought of it the +more it puzzled him, though with the morning there came an unexpected +solution.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IIa" id="Chapter_IIa"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> II.</h2> + +<h3>THE PURSUIT.</h3> + + +<p>A body of mounted troopers left Ararat an hour or so before daylight the +next morning, and by seven o'clock had reached the scene of the robbery. +They had with them a capable black tracker who had figured in recent +events in the Wombat Ranges. He was a silent individual who answered to +the name of "Jacky," a name that seems to be the heritage of all blacks +who serve in the police force. He quickly picked up the false scent, and +the party turned east. It wasn't until the horses stumbled over the heap +of stones that some brilliant intellect dropped to the trick that had +been played on them. Then, with the better part of an hour to the bad, +the party returned to the starting-point of the trail.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me," the sergeant in charge remarked to his subordinate, "that +they've laid this trail with a good reason. Now if a man wanted to put +you on the wrong track, what would you think he'd naturally do?"</p> + +<p>"Send us in the opposite direction," said the other promptly.</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said the sergeant. "Now the false trail leads east, so it's +only reasonable to suppose that they've gone west."</p> + +<p>"That's so," the other agreed. "Get-up, you brute." The latter remark +was addressed to the horse, which showed an inclination to drop into a +walk.</p> + +<p>"Here you, Jacky!" the sergeant called, and when the black came to him +he said, "Those white men have gone this way," pointing westward. "Look +out for their tracks, though I don't fancy we'll see any for some time."</p> + +<p>The black grunted non-committally. He had much the same idea himself, +though he could not understand how the white man had guessed. Still he +knew enough of the white men to realise that they were very, very +clever, and sometimes found out things that even the black trackers did +not understand. The black went back to his work in silence. Presently he +grunted again. His quick eyes had noticed a grey woollen thread stamped +into the earth. He lifted it gingerly up in his hand and held it out to +the police. The sergeant took it, examined it carefully, and then, +without any comment, handed it round to the others. There was no need to +ask what it meant. All knew without being told that someone had lately +passed that way, and who could that someone be unless one of the +rangers?</p> + +<p>The black went back again to the trail, bending down close to the ground +for all the world like a little dog following the scent of the chase. He +turned sharply off into the bushes and the troop went after him. Here +and there—wherever the earth had chanced to be a little softer than +usual—one could see round depressions somewhat about the size of a +saucer, and one patch of damp soil gave a remarkably clear imprint of +the fibres of some material.</p> + +<p>"Clever chaps, by George!" the sergeant remarked. "They've got brains +among them."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" queried one of the police.</p> + +<p>"They've tried the old duffers' dodge of blanketing the horses' hoofs. +Sort of thing that works, too, unless a man happens to have his eyes +well open. Luckily I've stumbled up against this sort of thing before."</p> + +<p>The other man, who had his own ideas about the matter, nodded his head, +but otherwise made no comment.</p> + +<p>About ten o'clock the troopers debouched from the trees into a low-lying +stretch of land. One could not call it a gully; it was more of a +depression, a fault in the earth due to some local subsidence. On the +nearest ridge a prospector's hut was perched, from the chimney of which +a wisp of smoke ascended. When one of the mounted men dropped from the +saddle and opened the door he found no one in charge, though a dinner +was merrily simmering away on the fire.</p> + +<p>"Whoever he is he can't be far away," the sergeant commented. "He +wouldn't leave his dinner unless he was handy. Have a look for him, +boys. He might be able to tell us something."</p> + +<p>The men scattered in different directions down the depression, and +presently a shout from one of them announced that the prospector had +been found. He came toiling slowly up the slope, side by side with his +discoverer. He was a small wiry man, with a heavy iron-grey beard, and +his age, as well as one could guess, was something near to sixty.</p> + +<p>"You don't happen to have seen a body of men, horsemen, passing this way +late last night or early this morning?" the sergeant queried.</p> + +<p>"Nobody passed this way last night," the man answered in a colorless +voice. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"A gold escort was robbed yesterday evening," the sergeant said, "and +we've got information that the robbers came this way."</p> + +<p>The man turned slowly and studied the lower slopes of the distant range. +He saw, or seemed to see, something that interested him, and he stared +so long that the sergeant said impatiently, "Well, what about it?"</p> + +<p>"I was just wondering," said the little man in the same colorless voice. +"I was just wondering if that was them."</p> + +<p>"If who was?" the sergeant demanded. "Out with it, man, and don't keep +us waiting all day."</p> + +<p>"Last night," said the man distinctly, "there was a fire up on those +ranges. It wasn't a bush-fire. I know a bush-fire. It was just a tiny +little glow from here. I thought it was a fire showing through the open +door of a hut, until I remembered that nobody lived up there. It didn't +last long; it must have burnt out in ten minutes or so, so I knew that +it was started by some traveller. It wasn't a camp-fire and they weren't +cooking anything."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?" the sergeant said quickly.</p> + +<p>"How do I know that?" the little man repeated slowly. "It's easy enough. +The fire was only alight ten minutes at the most, and you can't cook +anything or boil a billy in that time, I know."</p> + +<p>"The old chap's right," one of the troopers said in an undertone to his +superior.</p> + +<p>The sergeant nodded. He turned again to the old prospector. "You're sure +you didn't see anyone pass this way?" he queried.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not sure," said the man. "I'm only saying that I didn't hear +anyone."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by saying you're not sure that you didn't see anyone?" +the sergeant asked curiously.</p> + +<p>"When there's shadows in the trees," said the old man, "there's times +when you can't tell whether they're men or not. That's what I mean. I'm +only saying that I didn't hear anyone. I'd have heard horses."</p> + +<p>"The man's a hatter," the sergeant remarked as the troop galloped off +towards the ranges. "As mad as a March hare."</p> + +<p>The other grinned cheerfully. "Still there's a lot in what he said," he +answered. "Now that about the fire——"</p> + +<p>"I wonder why they lighted it," the sergeant cut-in.</p> + +<p>"Don't know," the other said. "What's the sense of worrying anyway? +We'll know soon enough. But don't you think we should have brought the +old chap along with us?"</p> + +<p>The sergeant shook his head. "What'd be the good?" he said. "He couldn't +do any more than he's done already."</p> + +<p>He swung round in his saddle and faced the troop. "Now, men," he said, +"we've got to put our best foot foremost. Those 'rangers are somewhere +ahead of us, making for the mountains. Keep your eyes skinned, for you +never know the minute we'll catch up to them. They can't have such a big +start of us, and they're heavily loaded at that."</p> + +<p>The troopers unslung their carbines and examined the loading, then, +satisfied that every preparation had been made, they set spurs to their +horses and cantered up the track that led to the ranges.</p> + +<p>It was Mr. Abel Cumshaw who first discovered the pursuers. Early in the +afternoon the two men commenced to ascend the mountains proper. Just +before they disappeared into the belt of timber that fringed the slopes +the younger man turned in his saddle and cast one last backward glance +at the valley they had left beneath them. Far away below them, in among +the misty shapes of the distant trees, he caught a glimpse of a +collection of dark little dots whose unfamiliar look puzzled him. He +called Mr. Bradby's attention to them, and that gentleman glanced at +them in an offhand way and pronounced them to be kangaroos.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he added in a different tone. "Hurry up with you there!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw had no intention of moving until he was fully satisfied in +his own mind that the little black dots were really kangaroos. Something +seemed to whisper that they weren't.</p> + +<p>"They're not kangaroos," he said with conviction. He had caught the +glint of sunlight on metal, a brass button of a man's uniform, or +perhaps the polished barrel of a carbine.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Mr. Bradby, "so you've tumbled."</p> + +<p>"They're police," Mr. Cumshaw stated. "That's what they are."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know that, Abel? I guessed it as soon as I saw them. I'd +never confuse a trooper with a kangaroo. I only said that to—well, I +didn't want to scare you unnecessarily."</p> + +<p>"You needn't be afraid of that," said Mr. Cumshaw airily. "I'm in the +game for good or ill, and I'm taking all risks equally with you. It's as +much my funeral as yours."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter whose funeral it is," Jack Bradby said impatiently. +"We've got to get away and do it smart. You must remember that neither +of us knows anything at all about this country, and it's ten to one that +those infernal police have got a black tracker or some other imp of +Satan who'll be able to follow us, even if we left as little trace as so +many flies."</p> + +<p>"Where are we heading for anyway?" Abel Cumshaw enquired as he spurred +his horse alongside his companion's.</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say," Bradby retorted. "If we'd had any gumption +we'd have explored the place before we took on this last job. But we +hadn't the time, and that's all there is to say about it. It's my +impression that this section of the State is as full of hiding-places as +ever the Blue Mountains or the Wombats were. If we only keep up this +spurt of ours we'll make a gully or a valley where we can hide for +months without a soul being a whit the wiser."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Cumshaw, in the manner of a man who has very grave +doubts.</p> + +<p>"Hold your breath for your work," Mr. Bradby advised. "You might need it +all yet."</p> + +<p>They had made good headway by this, and the path that they had picked +out took them every hour deeper into the unexplored heart of the +country. On every side of them stretched the unbroken fastnesses of the +primeval wilderness, sheer precipices dropping suddenly into infinite +space, jagged peaks towering dizzily into the misty vault of heaven, +quaintly situated valleys so masked by timber and brushwood that one +came across them only by accident. There is something in the naked face +of Nature, in the sheer magnificence of incredible heights and the +marvellous massiveness of big timber that somehow dwarfs man into +insignificance and makes him realise the puniness of his strength. There +was something in the scenes now opening up before the rangers that +subdued them and beat them into silence. There was beauty in the sight, +the soft eternal beauty of an unravished land, but over and above that +was the suggestion that the travellers were fighting not merely against +their kind but against the untrammelled forces of an all-powerful +wilderness.</p> + +<p>The time was early December, and the golden wattle in full bloom. From +end to end the ranges were a blaze of color, near at hand deep gold, +fading away in the distance into that hazy blue-grey peculiar to +Australian mountains. Hour by hour the men rode on in silence, at times +galloping down the slopes, at others crawling slowly and painfully up +hills that stretched apparently to heaven, hills that yet dropped +suddenly into space when one had almost given up all hope of ever +reaching the summit.</p> + +<p>They had lost all sight of the pursuers, though once Bradby caught a +glimpse of smoke far away to the east, smoke that he fancied came from +the mid-day fire of the troopers.</p> + +<p>They halted at sunset in the shadow of a clump of red gums and made the +first meal since morning. As a result of a hurried consultation they +decided to press on until midnight. But the horses were wearied with the +rough and constant travelling, and it took the better part of two hours +for them to cover a little under three miles.</p> + +<p>"They've got to have a rest and so have we," Bradby said finally. "The +pace is killing, and I'm quite satisfied that the police are taking it +fairly easy. We've got scared over nothing. They might not even be on +our track. At any rate I suggest we finish for the night and get what +sleep we can."</p> + +<p>Abel Cumshaw raised no objection to this—as a matter of fact he was +almost falling from his mount out of sheer saddle-weariness—so a halt +was called, the horses were unsaddled, the men unrolled their blankets +and settled down to slumber just as the silver ghost of the moon flooded +the place with its cool white light.</p> + +<p>It was broad daylight when they awoke, and the sun was already high up +in the heavens.</p> + +<p>"Somewhere about nine or ten o'clock," Cumshaw guessed. "We've slept in, +Jack."</p> + +<p>Bradby ruefully admitted that this was so, but excused it on the ground +that they would be better fitted for the day's work.</p> + +<p>"I'm hanged if I like this game," Cumshaw growled as they made a meagre +breakfast on almost the last of their rations. "The food's running +short, and it's only a matter of time until they wear us down. You know +what it means for us, Jack, if they catch us with the gold. Now I've got +an idea, and if we carry it out I see a chance of escaping scot-free. +The gold's weighing us down, so what we've got to do is to get rid of +it."</p> + +<p>"You're surely not going to throw it away after all we've gone through," +said Bradby, aghast at the proposal.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not," Cumshaw told him. "What I suggest is that we hide it +somewhere handy, make a note of the spot, and then clear out of this +particular section for a time. We can easily keep afloat for a couple of +months, and when the hue and cry has died down, we can come back and dig +it up at our leisure. We'll gain nothing by sticking to it now and we'll +run a chance of losing everything."</p> + +<p>"Not a bad idea," Bradby agreed. "But the trouble's to find a suitable +spot."</p> + +<p>"We passed dozens of such places already, Jack. We're just as likely to +strike something as good or even better during the course of the day. +The whole country-side is honeycombed with hiding-places; it's like a +rabbit-warren."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing like being an optimist," Bradby said. "Have it your +way, Abel. Now the sooner you find some nice secure little spot the +better for us, I'm thinking. For one thing the food's running short, as +you just remarked, and for another I don't intend keeping up this +dodging game for ever. We can't last; they'll wear us down."</p> + +<p>"That's supposing they don't get tired and go home," said the cheerful +Mr. Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>"Not much chance of that," Mr. Bradby retorted. "I only wish they +would."</p> + +<p>During the morning Bradby's horse developed lameness, and, though the +two men slackened the pace in order to give it every chance, by mid-day +it could barely limp along.</p> + +<p>"This won't do," said Bradby in despair. "We're losing time we can ill +afford. All the same this old crock'll have to struggle on until +nightfall, and then we'll see whether we'll have to shoot it."</p> + +<p>"I don't like shooting a horse," Cumshaw remarked. "It's like murder."</p> + +<p>Bradby's only answer was a muttered oath. The trials of the Journey were +bringing out the worst side of the man, a side that Cumshaw had never +seen before. He eyed his companion thoughtfully. If the wilderness was +to get on Bradby's nerves at this early stage, Cumshaw could see that +there was likely to be very serious trouble before the end came. The air +in the highlands was laden with a freshness which, while it stung the +men to action, at the same time put a keen edge on their tempers. Both +of them were children of the warm, sun-kissed lowlands, and the +difference of even a few degrees of temperature had a remarkable effect +on them. With Abel Cumshaw it was such as to send a warm glow into his +cheeks; the cold bite of the air made his blood sparkle like new wine +and urged him on to fresh efforts. It affected Mr. Bradby in another and +a worse way. He became sullen, and there was a certain marked +vindictiveness in the way he spurred his lame horse on to exertions that +were plainly too much for it. Once or twice Abel was on the point of +remonstrating with him, but for the sake of peace he held his tongue and +waited, in the hope that the day would bring forth some measure of +relief. But nothing happened that morning, and the hope died within him.</p> + +<p>Late that day, when the pace had slowed down almost to a crawl, they +stumbled across the place by the simplest kind of accident. They had +been dropping down to lower levels the greater part of the day, and +somewhere about three o'clock in the afternoon—they were not quite sure +of the hour, since the sun was masked by the trees—they found +themselves in what looked like a narrow gully. Both sides of it were +lined with thick bushes of golden wattle that shut out all view on +either hand. There were shadows galore in this narrow gully, and the +place itself looked almost as dark as the entrance to the Pit. Cumshaw, +who had a classical education and had not been able to forget it, any +more than the fact that he had once been a gentleman, murmured under his +breath.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Bradby asked sharply.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw repeated his quotation. "Facilis est descensus Averno," he said.</p> + +<p>"What does that mean?" Bradby enquired, in the tone of a man who +imagines he is being insulted in a language he does not understand.</p> + +<p>"It's easy to go to hell," Cumshaw translated.</p> + +<p>Bradby shot one sharp curious glance at him, but made no comment on what +he had said. They rode on in silence.</p> + +<p>Presently they came to a patch of ground that had been broken by the +wind or the rain, or perhaps both together. The shadows so fell that the +travellers did not realise the treacherous nature of the soil until they +were right in the middle of it. Cumshaw's horse floundered and would +have fallen on its knees had he not reined in sharply. This caused him +to cannon into his companion's mount. Bradby pulled back sharply, in +some way jarring his animal's sore leg as he did so. It reared up on its +haunches with the pain, and in the most approved manner bucked its rider +off. He shot up in the air, described a beautiful half-circle, and +sailed through the barrier of wattle like a human projectile.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw slipped off his horse with the quickness of thought. He had +enough presence of mind to tether both his own and Bradby's mount, and +then he cautiously parted the bushes. For the moment he could see +nothing but a great wall of golden blossoms, and then out of the depths +came Bradby's furious voice. He was cursing the horse and the slope and +everything and everyone within hearing in the simple and forceful +fashion of the Australian bushman.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw called to him and was answered with an oath.</p> + +<p>"Where are you?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Down here," said the voice, this time modifying its language. "Step +carefully or you'll come a cropper."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw pulled the bushes apart and found that he was standing on +the verge of a sheer descent.</p> + +<p>"Mind your eye," said the voice of the still invisible Mr. Bradby. "I've +found the very place we've been looking for."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IIIa" id="Chapter_IIIa"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> III.</h2> + +<h3>THE HIDDEN VALLEY.</h3> + + +<p>Abel Cumshaw caught at the bushes to save himself from slipping and +turned a curious eye on the scene before him. Really there wasn't very +much for him to see. Bradby had fallen into a miniature valley so small +that it looked like the creation of a child. The place was heavily +timbered, and almost all definable features were masked beneath the +trees. Abel saw even in the first glance that here was just that ideal +hiding-place for which they had been searching. Softly and cautiously he +commenced to descend. The slope was slippery with green grass, and he +finished the last few yards with a run. He came down amongst a lot of +bracken and fern, and suffered no worse harm than the shock of a sudden +stoppage. Mr. Bradby, he saw, was sitting almost buried in a mass of +bracken, and looking much cheerier than his recent utterance would seem +to suggest.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt?" Cumshaw asked him. He held out a helping hand. Mr. +Bradby struggled to his feet and smiled at his questioner.</p> + +<p>"Hurt? No," he said. "Only surprised. Why, Abel, here's the very place +we want. We could hide here for years, and they could be scouring the +country for us, and them not a penny the wiser. That tumble of mine was +just the luckiest thing imaginable. You talk about falling into hell! +Why, man, we've fallen into heaven, and if we don't make the best use we +can of the place we're the biggest duffers alive."</p> + +<p>"How are we to get the horses down here?" queried the practical Mr. +Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bradby eyed the slope down which he had come so precipitately, and +then pursed up his lips.</p> + +<p>"It don't look so easy from here," he said at length. "And from what I +can see this place is walled in all round."</p> + +<p>"Whether it is or not," said Cumshaw, "we've got to get those horses +down, and get them down at once."</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>"That's what we've got to find out," said Cumshaw. And with that he +commenced to climb up the slope again. It was hard work, much harder +than coming down, but in the end he managed it. When he reached the top +he turned, to find that Bradby was almost at his heels. He surveyed the +place with the eye of a trained bushman; then he said, "We can manage +it, Jack. It's a case of sliding them down, but once we get them started +they'll go right enough."</p> + +<p>"We'll give it a try," said Mr. Bradby. His usual good humor was fast +re-asserting itself now that they had reached a haven of comparative +safety, and he was ready to try any scheme that promised even the +smallest chance of success.</p> + +<p>Without wasting any further words on the matter the two men scrambled +through the bushes and made their way towards the horses. The lame +animal had quite recovered from its fright, and suffered its owner to +lead it up the slight rise to the wattles, though there it drew back as +if conscious of the drop beneath. But by dint of prodding and coaxing +Bradby forced it through the crackling brush, and then, with a wild +whinny of fear, it lost its footing and slid down the slope in an +avalanche of grass and twigs. Cumshaw's mount made the descent in fine +style, and the two men followed.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Bradby, when they stood once more on level ground, "the +further we get into this timber the better, I say. I don't suppose any +passer-by would be likely to notice that we've come down here, do you?"</p> + +<p>"All things considered," Mr. Cumshaw said slowly, "we've made little +mess. We've got to thank that grassy slope for that. If it had been dry +earth there'd have been tracks enough in all conscience. Yes, I think we +can reasonably say that we've no need to fear anything—unless +accidents."</p> + +<p>As near as they could judge the valley was about a mile across at its +widest, but it merged so gently into the further side of the ranges that +it was almost impossible to say exactly. The wood grew thicker as the +men advanced, until presently it was with difficulty that they could +make their way forward.</p> + +<p>"Getting pretty close," Bradby said at length.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded. He was too busy thinking over certain little +peculiarities of the wood to take much notice of his companion's +remarks. His quick eye had seen little cuts in the trees, bits of bark +that had been chipped off here and there, and the sight set him +wondering. The cuts were curiously like the blazing of a trail. They +were regular, they were all about the same height on the tree-trunks, +and they looked as if they had been made with an axe, not the crude +stone weapon of an aborigine, but the sharp steel axe of a white man. +Yet the place seemed deserted, and in all the air was that sense of +utter desolation and absence of life that only those who have lived +close to Nature can feel and understand.</p> + +<p>"We're not the first here," Cumshaw said suddenly.</p> + +<p>Bradby turned on him in alarm. "What d'y' mean?" he asked indistinctly.</p> + +<p>"Some of the trees are blazed," Cumshaw pointed out. "The cuts are +clean, and that means they've been done with an axe. But they're all +weather-worn, so it must have been some time ago."</p> + +<p>"I don't like the look of it all the same," Bradby said despondently. +"It means that someone else has stumbled on this place—it doesn't +matter much whether it was yesterday or ten years ago—and what has been +done before will almost certainly be done again. If those troopers come +this way——"</p> + +<p>"What's the good of crossing the bridge before you come to it?" Cumshaw +interrupted. "We've been lucky so far, and who's to say our luck won't +hold out till the end?"</p> + +<p>"It's the end I'm looking at," Bradby said gloomily. "It might be the +sort of end neither of us'd fancy."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw made no immediate reply. He was peering very intently +through the boles of the trees as if he was not quite sure that what he +saw was really there.</p> + +<p>"What are you looking at?" Bradby demanded irritably.</p> + +<p>"If that's not a bit of a clearing and a hut on the edge of it, I'm a +lunatic," Abel Cumshaw said.</p> + +<p>"Hell!" ejaculated Bradby, and he in his turn peered through the trees.</p> + +<p>"There's no smoke coming from it," Cumshaw said comfortingly. "It looks +deserted. I daresay it's been like that for years."</p> + +<p>"I don't like this place," Bradby remarked with naive irrelevance. "It +fair gives me the creeps. There's spooks about here."</p> + +<p>"If you talk that way," said Cumshaw fiercely, "I'll put a bullet +through you. That sort of talk's only fit for children. You're not a +child. You ought to have more sense. There's things here doubtless that +you and I don't understand, but they're quite capable of a rational +explanation, so don't go digging up any stuff about ghosts until you +find you can't explain them any other way. There's the hut in front of +us, and either there's someone in it or there isn't. If there is, we've +got to use our wits; if there isn't, the game's ours."</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way," said Bradby. "I'm game enough when I know what +I'm tackling. I only mentioned I didn't like the feel of the place, and +I don't see that that gives you any call to say what you have."</p> + +<p>"We'll call it off until we've investigated," Cumshaw replied. "You stay +here with the horses, and I'll creep forward a bit and see if anyone's +home. All the same, I'm willing to bet that the place's deserted."</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," suggested Bradby. "However, you go off +as you say and I'll wait here for you."</p> + +<p>Abel Cumshaw threw the reins to his companion, slid his revolver +holsters round to the front within easy reach, should he need the +weapons they contained, and slipped through the trees with the silence +of a marauding tom-cat. Bradby watched him with some misgiving. No man +could say with certainty just what secret the dilapidated hut held, and +Bradby's state of mind was such that he took the gloomier view of the +situation. He would not have been very much surprised to see half a +dozen troopers issue from the hut. He would have taken it as the +inevitable ending of such an adventure. He failed to understand the +natural cheerfulness with which Cumshaw faced the situation. He was +bright and volatile enough himself when dealing with the ordinary +man—his courage was of that average quality that is always at its best +when exercised before an admiring or frightened audience—but the +abnormal brought home to him his own futility of purpose and his natural +helplessness. While realising all this he was not man enough to rise +above and overcome the limitations of his spirit.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw swung round the corner of the hut and out of sight. Then it was +that Bradby began to feel absolutely deserted, and the queer +oppressiveness of the place descended on him as one shuts down the lid +of a box. He was not the type of man who finds companionship in animals, +and the nearness of the horses in nowise mitigated his fear. For he was +afraid, unashamedly afraid, though of what he could no more have said +than he could fly. He knew without understanding how the knowledge came +to him that the valley was filled with the ghosts of dead things, dead +trees, dead leaves, and perhaps dead hopes. His nerve was going; the +intolerably close atmosphere of the wood brought little beads of +perspiration out on him, and when he brushed his forehead with a +trembling hand he was surprised to find it wet.</p> + +<p>The horses stirred uneasily, and the lame animal gave a low whinny.</p> + +<p>Then in the next instant the eternal silence of the valley was broken by +a human voice. The suddenness of it startled Bradby, and it wasn't until +he saw Cumshaw waving to him that he realised that the sound he had +heard was his companion's "Coo-ee." He loosed his hold on the reins, +allowing the two horses to wander where they might, and commenced to run +towards the hut. Even as he ran his faculties collected themselves, and +when he reached the corner of the hut he was almost his own man again.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw eyed him curiously as he pulled up. "Startled you a bit, didn't +I?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I thought something had happened to you when I heard you call," Bradby +answered, a trifle untruthfully.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry about me," Cumshaw said with affected unconcern, though +something in the man's nervous tone troubled him in a way he could not +define. "I've found the old chap who made the marks on the trees," he +ran on.</p> + +<p>"Where?" Bradby demanded. But he looked towards the hut-door +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"He's in there," Cumshaw said, following the other's glance, "but there +isn't anything to worry about. He's as dead as a door-nail."</p> + +<p>"Dead," Bradby repeated dazedly.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded. "This many a day," he said in semi-explanation. "But +come in and see what there is to be seen."</p> + +<p>As if perfectly sure of his companion's acquiescence he turned and +walked into the hut. After a moment's hesitation Bradby followed. The +place smelt a trifle musty, and all the air was full of the subtle reek +of decay. It was rather dim in the hut, and at first Mr. Bradby could +see nothing but some indefinite shapes that might be anything at all. +Gradually his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, and in the +farthest corner he spied a rough bed of planks.</p> + +<p>"That's him," said Mr. Cumshaw irreverently, and stirred something with +his foot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bradby looked a little closer this time. The something that Cumshaw +had stirred turned out to be the whitened skeleton of a man. The hideous +thing about it was that it was not stretched out on the plank bed; it +was propped up, as if the man had died while sitting. A rusted gun lay +in line with the thing's left thigh, and Bradby, following the muzzle +with a trained eye, saw that it was pointed at the man's head.</p> + +<p>"Suicide," said Cumshaw. "Look at his head. He's blown out what little +brains he had."</p> + +<p>He was right. The frontal bones of the skull were shattered and twisted +by the force of the charge; they gave the rest of the face a ghastly, +leering look which turned Bradby physically sick. The other man was +evidently troubled by no such qualms, for he loosened the gun from the +bony hand that had clung to it so desperately through all those years, +and tumbled the skeleton itself on to the plank bed.</p> + +<p>"I'm going outside," said Mr. Bradby suddenly, and disappeared through +the doorway with suspicious alacrity.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw laughed softly. "Weak stomach," he murmured. "Well, +someone's got to clear this old chap out, and, as it's certain to be me, +I might as well do it first as last."</p> + +<p>At that he gathered the white, clean-picked bones up in his arms, +carried his burden through the doorway, and deposited it carefully on +the grass outside the hut. His eye lighted on Mr. Bradby, who was +sitting on the ground some distance away, looking very pale, and having +all the appearance of a man who had reluctantly parted with his lunch.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce are you doing?" he asked in tones that betrayed a +certain amount of trepidation not unmixed with vague horror.</p> + +<p>"Evicting the late tenant," Mr. Cumshaw grinned with cheerful +inconsequence.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>There was more than a question in the quick monosyllable. It contained +also a hint of protest.</p> + +<p>"Because we're going to camp inside the hut, and two's company and +three's more of a crowd than I like. This old chap can stop out here for +the night; I don't suppose he'll mind it much. If he's gone to the Abode +of the Blessed he'll be above worrying over such mundane matters, and if +he's anywhere else he'll be too much occupied to do anything but attend +to the burnt spots."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't speak like that of the dead," Bradby said solemnly. "It's +not right."</p> + +<p>"If we stopped to consider whether a thing was right or wrong before we +did it," Cumshaw retorted, "you and I wouldn't be here this evening. If +you're wise, you'll leave all that talk till morning. The shadows are +closing in, and we'll have the night on us before we know where we are. +I'd suggest that we catch the horses while the light's still good. You +must remember they've got those saddle-bags on them still. Of course, +there's just enough food to make a meal for a pair of small-sized +tom-cats, but I fancy we'll manage on it till morning. Who knows what we +may find then? Perhaps a kangaroo, or at the worst a native-bear."</p> + +<p>Bradby rose reluctantly to his feet, and, with a nervous glance at the +remains of the unknown, followed his partner in crime. The horses had +not strayed far; they were busily cropping the grass, and seemed quite +content with their lot. The two men unloaded the saddle-bags and carried +the contents into the hut. Then they hobbled the horses and turned them +loose for the night.</p> + +<p>The shadows were gathering in by this, and already the trees were full +of misty shapes that had no relation to fact. The bulk of the hills shut +out the last rays of the sun, though the western sky was still faintly +tinged with crimson. Just as they entered the hut Cumshaw paused for a +moment and ran his eye over the scene. The place seemed peaceful enough, +but he had that queer sense of the bushman, a sense almost amounting to +an instinct, that told him that there was trouble ahead. He shook the +feeling off almost immediately and entered the hut. Bradby, despite his +dislike of the conglomeration of bones on the grass outside, lingered a +second or so longer. There was a light in the eastern sky, perhaps a +faint reflection of the glow of the dying day, that lit up the hump of +the nearest hill. It was practically bare of vegetation; only a solitary +tree stood a lone sentinel on its very summit, showing black against the +horizon.</p> + +<p>The thought that sprung into Bradby's mind at that was that here was a +landmark which there could be no possibility of mistaking. Already +certain plans were germinating in his brain, and he saw, or fancied he +saw, a way of turning this latest discovery to practical use. The +bleached bones in front of him, too, became a means to an end, and, with +the smile of a man who sees the way suddenly made clear, he too entered +the hut in his turn.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw was busily engaged in laying a fire in the centre of the hut, +taking care, however, that its glow would not show through the open +doorway. He looked up as Bradby entered and said, "I think we're safe in +starting a fire here. It can't be seen by anyone crossing the hills, +though there isn't much likelihood of that, and all the smoke we make +won't do us any harm. There's always a certain amount of mist in a place +like this, and a man a mile away wouldn't be able to tell the +difference."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Mr. Bradby quietly. "You know what you are doing."</p> + +<p>The compliment in the last remark was desperately like an insult, but +Cumshaw did not seem to notice anything out of the way, for he bent down +to his work and whistled cheerfully while he coaxed the fire into a +blaze. Presently it was burning brightly, the billy was filled with +water from the water-bottle, and tea was in a fair way of being +prepared. "Great place, this," Cumshaw said presently.</p> + +<p>"Great place," Mr. Bradby assented. "A man can die here without anyone +being any the wiser."</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw made no reply to that, but the corners of his mouth +tightened as if he suspected some hidden meaning beneath that smooth +remark.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IVa" id="Chapter_IVa"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> IV.</h2> + +<h3>WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT.</h3> + + +<p>Just as the first rays of the rising sun slanted into the hut Mr. Bradby +stirred uneasily, threw out one arm, rolled over on his side, and in an +instant was wide-awake. He sat up abruptly and gazed around. Abel +Cumshaw was still sleeping peacefully, his head pillowed on the +saddle-bags that contained the plunder. Mr. Bradby smiled grimly at the +sight. Softly, without waking his companion, he rose from his rough bed +and glided to the open doorway. He stood there for a moment, drinking in +the fresh morning air.</p> + +<p>The sun was just coming up behind the solitary tree that had so +interested him the previous evening, and he noticed that from his +position in the dead-centre of the doorway the sun and the tree were +right in line. Again that curious, humorless smile flickered about the +corners of his mouth. He stood meditating for a minute or so, then, with +an assumption of carelessness that he did not feel, began pacing due +east. He had not taken half a dozen strides before he turned at right +angles to his previous course, and just as nonchalantly continued his +stroll northward. This time he covered about double the distance, then +stopped short and scratched a cross on the ground with the toe of his +boot.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the hut Abel Cumshaw was just getting up.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Jack," he greeted Bradby. "Been stirring long?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Bradby shortly. Then, perhaps fancying his tone was a little +too abrupt, he continued, "I've just been for a bit of a tour round."</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the place?" Cumshaw asked casually. But he did not +look up at his mate; he kept his eyes studiously on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Just the sort of place we could make our headquarters," said Bradby, +with an enthusiasm that even the forced restraint of his tone could not +hide.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll have much need of headquarters once this is over +and done with," Cumshaw hinted.</p> + +<p>"Maybe not," Bradby replied.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw turned to the plank bed and lifted up the saddle-bags, one in +each hand. "Don't you think we should get rid of these?" he remarked.</p> + +<p>"I'd almost forgotten about them," Bradby answered with an assumed +indifference. "Yes, we'll 'tend to them as soon as we've had something +to eat."</p> + +<p>"While you're talking about something to eat," Cumshaw told him, putting +the bags down again, "I'd like to remind you that we're right on the +last of the tucker. There's just enough flour for the day."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't worry about that," Bradby said. "There's sure to be plenty +of game about in a thickly-wooded country like this."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded and dropped on his knees beside the embers of the +evening's fire. In a few moments he was busy coaxing them into a blaze. +Bradby stood behind him, watching the sweep of his shoulders with +calculating eyes. Once his hand strayed almost unconsciously towards his +revolver, then, with a gesture, half of horror, half of dismay, at the +significance of his action, he twisted on his heel and strode to the +door. He turned then, blocking the light with his figure, so that his +face was just a black expressionless mask.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be a bad idea," he suggested, "if I looked about for a +likely spot to bury that stuff."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," said Cumshaw coolly, as if it were the most natural +suggestion in the world.</p> + +<p>Without further parley Bradby walked over to the spot he had marked +earlier in the morning. Bending down, he commenced to dig in the soft +soil with the point of his sheath-knife. The ground was easily enough +worked, and in less than half an hour he had excavated a hole of close +on to three feet in depth. He deepened it another six inches or so, and +then stood up with a smile of the utmost complacency on his face.</p> + +<p>"Nice spot you've chosen," said a voice at his elbow. He started at the +sound. He had not heard Cumshaw approach, and the idea that his mate +could come and go in such absolute silence filled him with dismay. +Already the gold fever had seized hold of him and made him suspicious of +every untoward move. Perhaps he fancied that some similar plan to his +own was evolving in Cumshaw's brain.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a nice spot," he answered. "It's easy enough to find once +you know where it is, but it isn't the kind of place a stranger would +blunder on."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw eyed the hole in the ground, and then looked towards the hut, as +if taking his bearings. Bradby noticed him and interposed hastily, "I've +got the measurement of the place. Have you a piece of paper I can write +it down on?"</p> + +<p>Cumshaw ran hastily through his pockets. "I haven't a bit," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Neither have I," said Bradby. "However, we'll have to keep it in our +heads. It's just ten feet from here to the hut-door."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't look it," Cumshaw said promptly.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't," his mate agreed. "But distance is deceptive here. How's +the meal going?"</p> + +<p>"Just about ready," Cumshaw told him. "I came to call you."</p> + +<p>The two men walked side by side to the hut. At the entrance Cumshaw +paused. "Nearer fourteen than ten," he said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Very likely," said Bradby indifferently. "What about that meal? I'm as +hungry as a hunter."</p> + +<p>They were on short commons. Bradby ate heartily, remarking once that +there'd be food enough to go round to-morrow. Cumshaw laughed and said +he hoped so, but that to-morrow was a day that never came to some +people. Bradby absently ignored the challenge in Cumshaw's reply and +kept silence for the rest of the time.</p> + +<p>After breakfast the two of them took the saddle-bags down to the hole, +placed them inside, and then stamped the earth tightly down on top of +them.</p> + +<p>"Now that's done," said Bradby, with an air of relief, "the sooner we +get out of here the better."</p> + +<p>"How about old bones over there?" Cumshaw said, pointing to the +skeleton.</p> + +<p>"Better sling him into the bushes," Bradby suggested, all his +superstitious fears vanishing now that it was broad daylight.</p> + +<p>"Poor old sinner," said Cumshaw as he lifted up the remains in his +strong arms. "It might just as easily be one of us."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like that!" Bradby cried. "It's tempting Providence."</p> + +<p>"You and I, Jack, have tempted that same all the days of our lives, and +we're likely to keep on until the end, so why growl about this +particular incident?"</p> + +<p>Bradby muttered something unintelligible, and Cumshaw, who was all for +haste now that their work was finished, did not ask him to repeat his +remark.</p> + +<p>Both horses had cropped their fill of grass, and the lame one seemed +slightly better. Its limp was not so pronounced and the swelling had +gone down.</p> + +<p>"It's out of the question getting them out the way we got them in," +Cumshaw said. "I wonder if there's any other way."</p> + +<p>"Nothing like having a try," Bradby advised. "That darned old hermit +must have come in some way, and I don't reckon it was the way we came +in. If I was you I'd try over there towards the west. The hills look low +enough."</p> + +<p>So they turned off at right angles to their path and presently were +edging their way through the wood again. As Bradby had surmised, the +ground rose steadily, though it was very rough. Big boulders lay about +the ground amongst the trees, which were thinning off. Soon they emerged +on to what was open country, and speedily found themselves right under a +ledge of rock which rose sheerly above their heads to a height of twenty +or thirty feet.</p> + +<p>"Blocked!" said Bradby savagely.</p> + +<p>"No," said Cumshaw in a tone that implied he refused to acknowledge +defeat. "There must be some way out, Jack, and I'm going to look until I +find it. Here, you take charge of the horses and I'll fossick out +something."</p> + +<p>He was gone for ten minutes, ten long minutes that Bradby occupied in +cursing the valley in particular and the rest of the world in general. +Then there came a cry from the height above him, and, looking up, he saw +Abel Cumshaw waving to him. Next instant the man disappeared and a few +seconds later swung down through the rocks.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he said. "We can't take the horses out here. We'll just +have to leave them. A man can crawl up through a sort of funnel in the +wall of the rock, but you'd want a sling to get the horses along."</p> + +<p>"Can't we go back and try the way we came in?"</p> + +<p>Cumshaw shook his head decisively. "No," he said. "It won't do to risk +it. They just tumbled down yesterday when we brought them, but you must +remember that we had to cling on with our hands and feet when we went +back. We'll have to jettison the horses."</p> + +<p>"You said it was murder yesterday when I suggested shooting them," +Bradby reminded him.</p> + +<p>"We had a chance of saving them then," Cumshaw argued, "but now it's +either them or us. If we turn them loose, the police'll find them sooner +or later. If we shoot them, it's over and done with, and even if anyone +does wander in here by accident he's not going to come this way. If we +let them roam about the valley, they naturally go over to the other side +where the grass is, and the first fool that blundered in would see them +and begin to wonder how they got there. You never want to give the other +man food for thought, Jack. Once he starts thinking, it's only a matter +of time until he noses out everything."</p> + +<p>"Shoot the horses, Abel, and have done with it. I'm sick and tired of +talking. It's high time we did something."</p> + +<p>The horses were shot then and there as the easiest way out of it, and +when the echoes had died away the two men crawled cautiously up the +funnel-like opening in the rock. Footholds were precarious enough, but +by dint of hanging on by teeth and claw the partners at length forced +their way to the top and stood on the ledge that overhung the valley. +Across the smoky sea of timber they caught sight of the long line of +golden wattle through which they had broken their way the previous +evening. It occurred to both in almost the same instant that no man +would be very likely to blunder in by chance. The place was securely +hidden from view on three sides at least, and on the fourth, the side +where they now stood, the approach was so difficult and, as they learnt +later, dangerous that a man must have some very good reason for +attempting it. Cumshaw it was who first put his thoughts into words.</p> + +<p>"I can't help thinking," he said, "that the old chap must have come over +from this side. Most likely he was dodging someone."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be surprised at that," said the other.</p> + +<p>"I don't think he'd have found the other way in a month of Sundays. +However, let's get along. We'll have to make haste now we're without +horses, What's it to be? Riverina or Adelaide?"</p> + +<p>"I favor the Riverina," Cumshaw said. "I'm more familiar with the +country, and they've got nothing against me up there."</p> + +<p>"Riverina it is then," Bradby agreed with a laugh. "All places are the +same to me. I've no more liking for one than for another."</p> + +<p>So it came about that the valley faded away into the dim distance south +of them, and presently they were toiling across the barrier of mountains +that cuts Northern Victoria off from the rest of the State.</p> + +<p>The tragedy happened that evening. An hour or so before sunset they +decided to camp hard by a little creek they had just discovered. +Cumshaw, as usual, tended to the fire, and Bradby, after idling about +for a while, suggested that he had better go hunting, in the hope of +being able to obtain fresh meat for the meal.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Cumshaw. "Go ahead. But don't be any longer than you +can help."</p> + +<p>"I'll be back as soon as I can," Bradby answered, and slipped into the +shadows that were already gathering thick and fast. Abel Cumshaw worked +away, whistling softly to himself the while. He was so busy doing one +thing and another that it was not until darkness fell suddenly and +completely on the scene that he realised how quickly time had passed. +His first thought then was that Bradby was away much longer than he had +any right to be. It occurred to him that Bradby might have gone much +further than he intended and by some mischance had lost his way. He +decided to wait a while longer, and then, if Bradby did not appear in +the meantime, to go in search of him. But the time passed, the fire died +away to red hot coals, and the shadows fell thickly on everything; but +still Bradby did not come. At last Cumshaw rose swiftly to his feet in +the manner of a man who has decided on the course he must take and means +to stick to it unswervingly. With quick yet noiseless steps he stole +through the trees, occasionally swinging a sharp glance to the left or +right. But it was very dark in the woods, and it was impossible to tell +shape from shadow. A regiment might have been hiding behind the boles of +the trees without him being one whit the wiser. He had profound +objections against shouting his whereabouts to his mate—his woods' +instinct warned him never to reveal his presence unless there was no +other way out—but he saw speedily enough that there was no other course +left for him to take.</p> + +<p>He made a megaphone of his hands, and sent a long-drawn "Coo-ee" out to +wake the echoes. The sound reverberated from the hills and died rumbling +away in the hollows. For some seconds after that there was absolute +silence, and then somewhere ahead of him he caught a very faint noise as +of long grass rustling in the wind. But the air was absolutely devoid of +motion. The sound puzzled Cumshaw; the very stealthiness of it convinced +him that no animal had made it, yet he could not understand why Bradby +should exercise such unnecessary caution.</p> + +<p>Then in an instant he knew. The black wall ahead of him was split by a +pencil of flame, the silence of the forest crackled into sound, and the +whip-like crack of a revolver echoed and re-echoed. A bullet whistled +dangerously close to Cumshaw. He swore under his breath and tugged +furiously at his own revolver. Bending almost double he sprinted towards +the shelter of the nearest tree, while at the same instant the +stranger's weapon cracked again. Something stung his ear. He put up his +hand, and the warm blood spurted through his fingers.</p> + +<p>He compressed himself into the smallest possible space behind the tree +and then fired in the direction of the last shot. He allowed a short +interval to elapse and then fired again. The other man must have seen +the flashes, but he made no attempt to answer them. The moment the first +shot was fired Cumshaw realised, in a flash of intuition, that his +assailant was none other than Jack Bradby. The knowledge made him +extremely angry, for such black treachery was the last thing he had +expected to have to contend with. He saw now that it was the old case of +thieves falling out over the division of the spoils, and that Jack +Bradby was determined to stop at nothing, even murder, in order to gain +the whole of the plunder. He continued firing with a savage fury that +boded ill for his late mate.</p> + +<p>The thing itself happened suddenly. One moment he was peering out into +the darkness in an effort to locate his enemy; the next strong sinewy +hands were around his throat choking the life out of him. With that +clarity of vision that comes to a man perhaps once in a lifetime, he +saw, even in the all-pervading darkness, the shadowy face that was +pressed close to his own. The eyes that looked into his were dim pools +of evil light, faintly phosphorescent like those of a cat, and the face +that framed them was contorted into a malignant leer of triumph. That +much he saw before the darkness crushed him out of existence and all +things earthly faded from his vision.</p> + +<p>Bradby felt the man's body go limp in his arms, and he quickly thrust +into its holster the revolver with which he had dealt the final blow. +There was a steamy smell of blood on the thick, damp air, and when Mr. +Bradby drew away his right hand he found it warm and wet.</p> + +<p>"Christ!" he said in a tone of fear, "I've killed him!" That was +precisely what he had intended to do from the very first, but now his +plan had apparently fructified, he felt a vague horror at the result of +his handiwork. He opened Cumshaw's shirt and put his hand over the man's +heart. He could not detect even the faintest flutter.</p> + +<p>Then swiftly, with many glances about him as he moved, he carried the +body to the undergrowth and very gently laid it on the ground. But he +failed to notice that as he bent down a flat piece of wood had slipped +from the pocket of his shirt and had fallen soundlessly into the soft +green grass at the side of Abel Cumshaw's body.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later silence reigned. Only the heavy scent of the wattle +was mingled with another odor—the warm, sickly smell of freshly-shed +blood.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_Va" id="Chapter_Va"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> V.</h2> + +<h3>EXPIATION.</h3> + + +<p>Unaccountably enough Bradby went no further than the dying embers of the +fire. His first act was to build a big blaze, for he was already +becoming afraid. He could not define even to himself just what this fear +was; it was not so much horror at what he had done as a feeling that his +sins would yet find him out. Some strange attraction kept him close to +the scene of the tragedy, and all night he sat by the fire with his head +in his hands and his eyes staring at the ever-widening ring of white +ashes. Towards morning he fell into a doze, but scarcely had the first +rays of the sun penetrated through the leafy mantle of the trees than he +was wide-awake. There were dark rings under his eyes, and the eyes +themselves looked strangely tired and haggard. He glanced at his hands +with a faint idea that something had been wrong with them the night +before. He was disgusted to find that they were caked with dried blood, +and a feeling almost akin to nausea shook his frame. He made all the +haste he could to the creek and washed every speck of blood and dirt +off, so that when he had finished his hands were clean and spotless.</p> + +<p>He shot a parrot for breakfast and made a gruesome meal off the raw +flesh. There was nothing else to eat, for the flour had all been +finished the previous day. After the morning's meal he brightened up and +set off northward with a brisk stride. The money was safe enough in the +valley for the present, he decided, and a couple of months in the +Riverina would not only not do him any harm, but would allow the hue and +cry time to die down. After that he would come back and get the gold, +and this time there would be no question of division; it would be his, +all of it. Now that the daylight had come he could think of the dark +figure suddenly growing limp in his arms and the smell of fresh blood +mixing with the scent of the wattles without the slightest misgiving. He +had no fear of it; he certainly felt no remorse. The further he got from +the scene of the murder, the lighter grew his spirits. He turned the +situation over in his mind and found abundant satisfaction in it; his +primitive logic told him that there was no evidence against him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is doubtful who was the most surprised, the troopers or Bradby when +he stumbled unexpectedly into their camp that evening. They were not the +men who had been following the bushrangers from the start, but another +body, warned by wire and hurriedly sent out from Murtoa. For some +unexplained reason the camp-fire had been allowed to die down, and so +there was no red glow to warn Bradby of their proximity. He had +blundered into the midst of the men before he quite realised what had +happened, and, when he made a wild dash for safety, he found that all +way of escape had been cut off. He was hemmed in on every side. The +troop was in charge of an officer of more than average intelligence, and +he instantly jumped to the correct conclusion. Had Bradby not lost his +head and endeavored to escape, he might have been able to pass himself +off as a prospector or something of the sort, but the mere sight of his +all-too-evident anxiety to get away wakened the suspicions of the +sergeant. The Grampians and the country surrounding them had hitherto +been singularly free from crime, and no malefactors from other parts of +the State were known to be at large in that neighbourhood. Obviously +this man, who displayed such a disinclination to meet the police, must +be a criminal, and just as obviously must he be one of the men wanted +for the gold escort robbery. The sergeant decided in one lightning flash +on a plan that he hoped would startle the man into betraying himself. +The moment Bradby turned to retreat and found himself hemmed in, the +other walked over to him, scrutinised him carefully, and in the same +instant placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "I arrest you in the +Queen's name for the robbery of the Gold Escort on the night of 1st +December."</p> + +<p>Bradby's jaw dropped and he stared open-mouthed at the other. He could +not understand the process of almost instantaneous reasoning by which +the officer had arrived at this conclusion, and the swift scrutiny the +man had given him convinced him that in some strange and unaccountable +way a description of him had been obtained and circulated. The man had +recognised him, of that he felt sure.</p> + +<p>All round him were staring policemen, watching him intently with eyes +that were no less full of astonishment than his own. They could not +fathom the reasons that actuated their chief, but they realised, all of +them, that the man before them must be in some guilty way connected with +the robbery. His very manner told them that.</p> + +<p>The chief uttered the usual warning: "It is my duty to warn you that +anything you say will be used in evidence——" He got so far when Bradby +awoke from his stupor. He gave no warning of his intention, but his +doubled fist shot out, caught the other on the point of the jaw and +dropped him in a heap on the ground. Then with the swiftness of thought +he leaped to one side, pulling his revolver loose at the same instant. +He had just the smallest fraction of a second's start of the police, and +in the flurry of the moment he actually burst through the cordon that +had formed around him. The next instant the carbines of the police +commenced to bark. Bradby stumbled, recovered himself, and fired over +his shoulder. Several of the troopers were already on horseback, and it +was only a matter of riding him down. He saw this himself, and his +futile shot was designed to stop one at least of the horses. However, it +went wide. He slipped behind a tree and began snap-shooting at the +advancing mounted men. They spread out fanwise, thus coming at him from +three sides at once. He moved slightly in order to get a better aim, and +in doing so unwittingly exposed himself. One of the troopers, who had +discarded his carbine in favor of a revolver, took a flying shot. Bradby +lurched from behind the tree, clasped his hands to his left side and +slipped down on to the grass.</p> + +<p>When they reached him the blood was welling out of his side, and they +saw that he was mortally wounded. The man who had fired the fatal shot +dropped on his knees beside him and lifted up his head. Bradby's face +was ashy pale, even in the faint moonlight one could see that, but he +was still conscious.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he panted. "I'm done."</p> + +<p>"Where is the gold and where are your mates?" the man asked, conscious +that a word from the dying bushranger would solve everything. Bradby's +frame shook spasmodically, and when the other looked again there was +blood on his pale lips.</p> + +<p>"Through the lung," muttered one of the others who had some knowledge of +medical science.</p> + +<p>The first man repeated his question in another form.</p> + +<p>Bradby looked at him with a strangely inscrutable face and with eyes +that were already darkening with the shadow of death.</p> + +<p>"Where's the gold? Where's ... my ... mates?" The last three words were +almost whispered.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the trooper eagerly. "Where are they?"</p> + +<p>The dying man moved his lips, but no sound issued from them. The other +bent down closer to him.</p> + +<p>"That," said the bushranger with long and painful pauses between each +word, "you ... will ... never ... know."</p> + +<p>And with that last taunt on his lips he died.</p> + +<p>"Game to the end," the trooper said to his comrades with an admiration +he made no effort to hide.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The blow had not killed Abel Cumshaw. He lay unconscious for the better +part of the night, and even when the day dawned he was too weak at first +to do more than crawl a few paces at the most. His head was throbbing, +his mouth was a raging furnace, and all his limbs felt as if they had +been racked and twisted. When daylight came at length he lay still for a +while, trying to recollect what had happened. But his mind was a perfect +blank and he himself was a man without an identity. The blow that had +knocked him unconscious had somehow affected his memory, and he knew no +more about himself than he did about the man in the moon. Something +terrible had happened, something in which he had played a very prominent +part, that much he realised; but beyond that simple fact his +recollection did not extend. He groped about in the grass in the hope +that he might find something that would give him a clue to the +situation. His hand fell on his revolver. That at least was tangible, +but there was nothing enlightening about it. Further search revealed a +small flat piece of wood. He picked it up curiously and stared at it. +Two or three sentences had been hurriedly scratched on its smooth +surface with the point of a sharp knife, but though they were +intelligible enough they did not appear to refer to anything concerning +him. The mere fact that he had been lying almost on top of the wood +struck him as strange, and in a moment of unusual thoughtfulness he +slipped it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>It was bright day by then, and the warmth of the sun seemed to revive +him to a marvellous extent. He got on his feet more by sheer will-power +than by any sudden accession of strength. He found that he could stagger +along, though his pace was necessarily slow and his course very erratic. +Some uncharted sense, instinct perhaps, led him along the track to the +creek where he had pitched his camp the previous evening. There was a +dim familiarity about the place that puzzled him. He felt in some absurd +way that he should recognise it, and he was both angry and surprised +that he could not. He found the remains of the parrot that Bradby had +eaten for breakfast, and he wondered vaguely who the man might be who +had been so close to him that morning. His wonder was such an impersonal +thing that he did not connect his own condition with the fact of the +other man's presence. Something had given way inside his head, that +something that controlled rational and consecutive memory. He sat down +on the bank of the creek and gazed into space. It would be incorrect to +say that he was dazed or that he behaved like a man in a dream. Those +are stock terms that in themselves are quite inadequate to convey his +peculiar state of mind and body. It was something more than lassitude, +yet it was not quite fatigue. It was rather as if some integral part of +his brain had been removed.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to say just how long he remained on the bank of the +creek. At last his hunger became so acute that he determined to go off +foraging. He had his revolver with him; he was a fair enough shot, and +so it was not long before he tumbled a 'possum out of a tree. He made a +rough meal of it, and after that set off aimlessly into the bush. Had he +kept to his original intention he would have speedily wandered into the +Mallee, and would have run a good chance of dying of starvation in that +thinly-populated district. But his mind was still in a whirl, and +instinct alone guided his footsteps to the east. He was many miles north +of the valley and during his travels he moved further north, so that he +did not come across it during his journey back.</p> + +<p>His subsequent adventures are not very clear. Early in his travels the +piece of wood began to trouble him, and he decided that the sooner he +got rid of it the better. It is more than likely that he connected it in +some way with that blank feeling of inexplicable tragedy which seemed to +overshadow him. His instinct, however, led him to hide rather than +destroy it. He read the wording very carefully, but it failed to awaken +any responsive chords in his memory. As an after-thought, just as he was +about to slide the wood into the hole he had scraped out, he took his +knife and cut his name below the screed. Then he thrust it into the hole +and stamped the earth in on top of it. In this relation it is +interesting to notice the connection between the hiding of the money and +the burying of the wood that held the key to the position of the former. +It seems as if the sub-conscious memory of the one act had its influence +on the man in his performance of the other.</p> + +<p>Thereafter Mr. Cumshaw simply disappeared off the face of the earth. His +son's story is that he went to New South Wales, married there and raised +a family, and in the light of subsequent events that seems to be what +most likely occurred. It is known, however, that the Cumshaws were in +Victoria again somewhere about nineteen hundred and two or three, Albert +being at that time seven years old.</p> + +<p>With the lapse of years Abel had gradually recovered his memory, and bit +by bit most of the incidents of the robbery had stolen out of the +shrouded darkness of the past. He appears to have been perfectly +contented with his family, and for one reason and another the gold +remained undisturbed through the long years. The time was coming when +the old play would be staged again and new actors would arise to carry +it through.</p> + +<p>The tale of the gold robbery and the shooting of Mr. Jack Bradby, as the +reader will readily understand, passed into the police records and thus +became matters of history. Though no definite statement has been left +us, Mr. Bryce must have first come across the story during his +researches into Victorian history. He had friends in the Department, and +it is quite feasible that he had ready access to many official documents +that are usually beyond the reach of the ordinary public. He was not the +only one in this enviable position. There were other students of the +past who were moving along the same lines, and as he pieced together the +puzzle of the robbery he was followed by a pair of agile, unscrupulous +brains every whit as clever as he. The police records told Mr. Bryce +just this much:—On the first day of December, 1881, there had been a +gold robbery, and the robbers had got completely away. They had been +followed, and subsequently a man had been killed in the Grampians who +had been identified as John Bradby, a noted sheep and cattle-duffer. +When dying he refused to tell who his pals were, and had in the same +breath stated that the police would never find the gold. That in itself +was conclusive, yet the additional fact remained that the whereabouts of +the gold was still as big a mystery as ever it had been. The opinion of +the police was that the other members of the gang—they seemed to think +that it was a fairly large one—had returned when the hue and cry had +died away and recovered the plunder. Bryce, reading between the lines of +the dry official record, rather thought that they hadn't. At any rate +the element of mystery was sufficiently strong to induce him to +investigate the matter further. That was really the beginning of the +trouble.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIa" id="Chapter_VIa"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE HEGIRA OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW.</h3> + + +<p>Early in January, 1919, Mr. Bryce had advanced so far in his +investigations that he resolved on taking a trip to the country around +the Grampians. He had nothing very definite to go on beyond the facts +that the robbery had been committed at one spot and Mr. Bradby had been +killed at another, and logically the gold must have been hidden +somewhere in between. He had hopes that he might stumble on something +that in his capable hands would prove to be a clue to the long-lost +hiding-place of the gold. Before he made any preparations he inserted an +advertisement in several of the leading dailies. It ran somehow like +this:—"Wanted—A capable and intelligent assistant to take part in +dangerous expedition to Grampians. Apply," and then followed his name +and address. He was convinced in his own mind that someone amongst those +who read this notice would have some inkling at least of the events of +1st December, 1881, and he rather fancied that he or they would be on +the alert. In that case it was just possible that the persons concerned +would either approach him with a guarded offer or would dog his +footsteps. In either case there was a chance of Mr. Bryce picking up +information that might be to his immediate advantage. He convinced +himself that there were still people living who had played an intimate +part in the affairs of that memorable night.</p> + +<p>The advertisement, however, had two results that were unforeseen by Mr. +Bryce. The third day after the insertion of the notice he was informed +that a gentleman wanted to see him. He requested that the man be shown +into his study. In due course the visitor arrived. He was a man +somewhere in the neighbourhood of sixty, but, save for a slight greying +of the hair about his temples, he showed little outward signs of his +age. His eyes, which were of a deep, unfathomable black, were very alert +and followed Mr. Bryce's every movement with a glittering serenity, if +one can use the expression, that was very disturbing.</p> + +<p>"Sit down," said Mr. Bryce, and he waved his visitor to a chair.</p> + +<p>The man sat down in the chair indicated, looked Mr. Bryce up and down, +without, however, the least sign of offensiveness in his gaze, and said +without any further preliminary, "I've come to see you about that +advertisement."</p> + +<p>"Um!" said Mr. Bryce non-committally. "Yes, that ad. What about it?"</p> + +<p>"I think," said the other with his eyes fixed intently on Mr. Bryce, "I +think I am the best man for the job."</p> + +<p>"I haven't told you yet what the job is," Mr. Bryce objected.</p> + +<p>"That's so," the other admitted. "Beyond saying that it was dangerous, +you did not attempt to describe it. It doesn't matter what you want in +the Grampians. I'm the man to take. I know the place well."</p> + +<p>"It's changed vastly in thirty years," Bryce said suddenly.</p> + +<p>The other must have been expecting something like this, for he never +turned a hair. As far as he was concerned Mr. Bryce's observation might +have been the most casual remark in the world. He ignored it. Perhaps it +would have been better had he commented on it and asked what association +to-day's expedition had with what had happened during thirty odd years. +He passed the matter over in silence, and in that instant Bryce guessed +that the man knew as much, if not more, than he did.</p> + +<p>"Do you know why I advertised that expedition as dangerous?" Bryce +asked, seeing that the other made no attempt to reply.</p> + +<p>The man shook his head. "No, I don't," he said distinctly.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," said Bryce, and he leaned forward in simulated +confidence. "I'm fat and I wheeze. My bellows are all to blazes and the +doctors won't give a rap for my heart. I might go out any minute, more +especially if there's any extra exertion. Now I want a man who won't ask +questions, who will do the exertions for two, and take what's coming +with a grin."</p> + +<p>"That sounds simple enough," the man remarked. "May I ask what we are +after?"</p> + +<p>"I'm searching for gold," said Bryce with a startling clearness.</p> + +<p>The other shifted in his seat, looked at Bryce as if to measure the +possibilities of his next remark, and then said, "There's no gold +there."</p> + +<p>"You mean," said Bryce, "that none's ever been discovered there; quite a +different thing. I hope to discover some before I'm done."</p> + +<p>"It's too far west for mines," the other asserted.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bryce passed over the man's statement in a way that showed that as +far as he was concerned that aspect of the matter was over and done +with. The obvious answer for him to make would have been, "Gold comes in +other ways than out of mines," but he was cautious enough not to air all +his knowledge at once.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Abel Cumshaw," the other answered, and saw by the way Bryce screwed up +his brows that it conveyed nothing to him.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Cumshaw, would you care to take this job on?"</p> + +<p>"How long would we be away?"</p> + +<p>"Six weeks or two months. I'm not certain of that."</p> + +<p>"When do we start?"</p> + +<p>"This is Monday. Be here Friday and we'll get right away. Friday +morning, mind, at ten-thirty sharp. That's all, I think. Good-day."</p> + +<p>After Mr. Cumshaw had gone Bryce slipped back in his chair and laughed +till his whole face creased up in rolls of quivering fat. "That's a good +one on him," he murmured. "He didn't ask what screw he was to get, and I +didn't tell him because I wanted to see if he'd ask. But he didn't, so +he must have been thinking of something else. He's anxious to get to the +Grampians, darned anxious. From the way he went on he seems to know a +bit about the place too. I wonder has he any suspicion?... Good Lord! +wouldn't it be a streak of luck if he knew! Yes, I did the right thing +in sending in that ad. One man's bitten at any rate."</p> + +<p>He went about the house all day chuckling away to himself.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The second incident which occurred that same day was of even a more +disturbing nature. Late that afternoon the telephone bell rang, and when +Bryce answered it a voice asked if he was the Mr. Bryce who had +advertised for an assistant in an expedition to the Grampians.</p> + +<p>"That's me," said Bryce. "But I'm sorry to say that the position's +filled."</p> + +<p>"Why are you sorry?" the voice asked disconcertingly.</p> + +<p>"Um!" said Mr. Bryce. "Aren't you after it?"</p> + +<p>"No chance," said the voice. "As a matter of fact, I was on the point of +writing out a similar one myself, when I saw yours and guessed I'd let +you do the work."</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" Bryce demanded with a trace of sharpness in his voice.</p> + +<p>The man at the other end of the wire laughed cheerfully. "Never you +mind," he said. "You'll know soon enough, as soon as you've landed Jack +Bradby's plunder. Now, I want to put up a sporting proposition to you. +We'll retire gracefully, if you'll split fifty-fifty."</p> + +<p>"We!" Bryce repeated. "So there's more than one of you?"</p> + +<p>"There's lots of us, and we've got the whip hand of you because, you +see, you don't know who we are. We know you; we've been following a +couple of jumps behind you right through all the records, and we guess +it's high time we cashed in."</p> + +<p>"I'll see you in Hell first!" said Bryce angrily.</p> + +<p>"Probably you will," said the voice with a chuckle. "If you won't treat +with us, we'll get what we want in other ways."</p> + +<p>"No, by thunder, you won't!" said Bryce shortly. "I'll warn you that +I'll shoot on sight."</p> + +<p>"So do we," the other laughed. "I hope, for your sake, you recognise us +first, though I don't think it likely."</p> + +<p>"If I catch you monkeying around I'll fill you so full of holes that +your own mother won't know you from a colander," Bryce threatened; but +the voice laughed irritatingly, and when Bryce tried to get a reply he +found that the other had rung off.</p> + +<p>He flickered the hook with his finger. "Exchange," he said, giving his +number, "can you tell me who was speaking just now?"</p> + +<p>"Box three, G. P. O. public 'phones," said the girl wearily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hell!" said Bryce in disgust, and hung up the receiver.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The rest of the week passed without incident of any sort, and, despite +the warning he had received. Bryce went on calmly with his preparations. +For all the fat flabbiness of him he was grit through and through, and +it took more than a warning over the telephone to turn him aside once he +had made up his mind to take a certain course. He went on quietly and +silently; his only sign of perturbation was that first thing on Tuesday +he slipped down town and bought a big calibre revolver.</p> + +<p>Friday morning came, and at ten-thirty exactly, not a minute before or +after, Mr. Abel Cumshaw knocked at the front door and was admitted. He +was shown at once into Mr. Bryce's study, where that gentleman awaited +him, watch in hand.</p> + +<p>"On time to the tick," he said affably as Cumshaw entered the room. +"Everything's ready for an immediate start. I suppose you've got all you +want."</p> + +<p>"I'm always ready at a moment's notice," Cumshaw said. "I travel light. +I'm an old campaigner."</p> + +<p>"That's the way I like to hear a man talk," Bryce said breezily. "We'll +be going in my car as far as we can. After that we'll have to walk, and +I'm not a very good hand at that. There's some rough spots up there, +they tell me," he said off-handedly. For all his seeming nonchalance he +was watching Cumshaw intently, and he saw him give an almost +imperceptible start. It flashed across Bryce's mind that perhaps Cumshaw +was in the pay of the people who had gone to such pains to 'phone him. A +second look at the man convinced him that such was not the case. +Cumshaw's eyes were frank and clear, and met his unswervingly. They were +not the eyes of a man who was playing a double game.</p> + +<p>There was something in them that Bryce did not quite understand. It was +the animation of newly-resurrected hope, such a light as might have +shone in the eyes of the men who rode to find the Holy Grail. Bryce knew +nothing of him or his history, and his only thought was that in some +queer way the man had a vital interest in the Grampians. It must be +remembered that, as far as known facts were concerned, Bryce knew +nothing more than the police records had told him. True, his reasoning +faculties, which were none of the densest, carried him a little further, +but he would have been the very first to admit his fallibility. Nothing +had occurred as yet to connect Cumshaw with Mr. Jack Bradby. He +recognised that the man had a definite object in view in going to the +Grampians—that was plain enough—but it might after all be merely +coincidence. Such things have happened. Mr. Cumshaw, on the other hand, +was alert and suspicious. He suspected everybody and everything, and he +had answered the advertisement solely because he believed, or affected +to believe, that an expedition to the hill country could have no other +object that the recovery of the gold. Doubtless it will appear strange +that Mr. Cumshaw had allowed so many years to elapse without attempting +to secure it for himself, but, as he told Bryce later on, there were +reasons even for that.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They stopped at Ballarat for lunch; Bryce refilled the petrol tank, and +then they set out on the long stretch to Ararat. Though no definite +statement exists, they passed the night at the latter town, for Cumshaw +afterwards told his son that they reached Landsborough about 10.30 the +following morning. Beyond Landsborough the track became very trying for +the car, and somewhere towards the evening of the second day the machine +was hidden away securely in one of the many gullies that abounded in the +neighbourhood. Then the hardest part of the journey began. Child's play +though it might have been to Cumshaw, who, for all his years, had a +constitution such as it is given to a few men to possess, it certainly +must have been a matter of infinite torture to Bryce, handicapped as he +was with his weak-heart and his wheezy lungs.</p> + +<p>They spent the next few days in working across to the spot where Bradby +had been killed thirty odd years before. As they drew near to the place +Cumshaw became more self-contained and uncommunicative than ever. The +sight of the old scene seemed to have depressed him marvellously. Bryce +watched him with increasing attentiveness; he noticed that he picked out +the road as if he had been used to it from childhood. There were times +when Bryce turned suddenly on him and caught a glimpse of a hard-set jaw +and a mouth about which strong lines of determination had woven +themselves. Yet, as soon as Cumshaw fancied he was observed, the mask of +his face melted into a smile, and the sombre eyes sparkled with a humor +that somehow seemed too real to be assumed.</p> + +<p>"You seem very familiar with the place, Cumshaw," Bryce remarked one +morning.</p> + +<p>"I told you I was," Cumshaw answered, his unfathomable eyes searching +his employer's face.</p> + +<p>"How long is it since you were here last?" Bryce asked.</p> + +<p>At the question all expression vanished from the other's face, leaving +it as immobile as a carven image of stone. "I have been here many +times," he said evasively.</p> + +<p>"Um!" said Bryce in that peculiar way of his, and he looked the other up +and down contemplatively. "I didn't think anyone had been here since +Bradby was shot."</p> + +<p>Bryce made the remark in the most casual and innocent way; he hadn't the +faintest notion in the world that what he had said was like a bombshell +bursting beneath the structure of Mr. Cumshaw's composure. He was +intelligent enough to realise that it was more than probable that +Cumshaw possessed knowledge of that almost forgotten episode which was +not shared with anyone else, but he had not the least suspicion that his +casual utterance would hit home so shrewdly as it did.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cumshaw stared at him as if he could not believe his ears. For once +he made no attempt to disguise his emotions beneath the mask of +stoicism. He saw laughter in the other's eyes, the jovial laughter of a +man who has always known the sweets of victory, and he jumped to the +natural though erroneous conclusion that Bryce had fathomed his +connection with the late Mr. Bradby. For all that he did not abandon his +defences without some show of resistance.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he demanded in the belligerent attitude of a man who +is fighting a desperate though losing fight.</p> + +<p>"Just what I said, Mr. Cumshaw," Bryce smiled. "What else did you think +I meant?"</p> + +<p>The quiet question was put in such an unexpectedly mild tone that +Cumshaw was left wordless for the nonce, though his face showed in all +their fulness the emotions that were stirring within him. Doubt, +indecision, fear of a kind.</p> + +<p>"I thought——," he said and then stopped short.</p> + +<p>"You thought," Bryce repeated with a gentle persuasiveness in his voice. +"What was it you thought, Cumshaw?"</p> + +<p>They were both fencing, in sporting parlance "sparring for wind," each +of them with the Big Idea almost within reach, and each not daring yet +to put it into words. For the space of a heart-beat they stared into +each other's eyes, seeking to read the other's thoughts. In the end it +was Cumshaw who gave in first. He tore his eyes away from that fixed yet +kindly gaze that seemed to search and read his very soul.</p> + +<p>"I see," said Bryce, with a sudden intake of breath that lent a sibilant +quality to his speech, "I see that we are on the same track. Mr. +Cumshaw, place your cards on the table. You are after the gold that +Bradby hid; so am I. Our aims are the same. Let us be partners, instead +of employer and assistant. What do you know that I do not? What do I +know that you do not?"</p> + +<p>Like most fat and comfortable people Bryce was the soul of generosity, +and his offer was dictated not so much by expediency as by a sense of +the pity that he felt for this man, who seemed to have aged years in the +last few minutes. He, too, in his time had known what it meant to have +the prize within a hand's touch and then at the last moment lose it +after all.</p> + +<p>"You know nothing about me," Cumshaw said impulsively. "You don't know +who I am or what I've been. You haven't an idea...."</p> + +<p>Bryce cut him short with a sweeping gesture of his chubby hands. "My +dear man," he said, "what you've been doesn't matter a tinker's curse to +me. It's what you are that counts."</p> + +<p>"You don't even know that," the other answered, his lips curling in a +wry smile.</p> + +<p>"I'll know as soon as you tell me," Bryce hinted.</p> + +<p>It is a difficult matter for a man, who all his life has held a close +secret, to divulge it at a moment's notice, in a sudden fit of warm +friendliness, to a comparative stranger, and so Abel Cumshaw found it. +It is even harder to surrender one's hopes and ambitions in favor of a +potential rival, honest and all as that rival may appear to be. For one +brief moment Cumshaw paused on the brink of revelation, the while he +weighed the matter in his mind. In some strange way Bryce had guessed +that he was after the gold, but did he know why and how? Cumshaw rather +fancied he didn't. He was so sure of it that he decided that he would +gain nothing by divulging the connection between himself and the late +Mr. Bradby. So the mouth which was opening to speak shut up again like a +steel trap, and the dark eyes turned bleak and cold. He looked Bryce +steadily and calmly in the face.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to tell," he said, and turned on his heel.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Black night had descended on the forest many hours before, so many in +fact that the camp fire had sunk to a feeble red glow, and the dying +embers were already circled by a ring of dead white ash. The breeze was +crooning softly through the branches of the trees, singing weird +chanties to itself. In between the murmurs of the wind there came +another sound, the indistinct sound of a sleepy man mumbling to himself. +Bryce half-raised himself on one elbow and listened. Half a dozen feet +away from him Cumshaw lay tightly rolled in his blankets. He tossed +restlessly and once all but sat up. Bryce dropped quickly but +soundlessly back into a prone position. But the alarm had been a false +one, and presently he quietly raised himself again. The indistinct +mumbling went on as before, and he strained his ears to catch some +intelligible word.</p> + +<p>"Kill me, would you?" he heard the other say.</p> + +<p>His voice sank again, and for a time he mumbled and mouthed his words so +that Bryce missed most of what he said. He was just on the point of +settling down again when Cumshaw suddenly sat up.</p> + +<p>"I'll beat you yet, Bradby!" he cried with startling distinctness. +"You're dead now and the gold's mine."</p> + +<p>His eyes opened and he stared dazedly around him. Bryce was lying prone +and snoring away hoggishly. He was fast asleep; there was not the +slightest doubt in the mind of the man who watched him so closely.</p> + +<p>"I must have dreamt I said it," Cumshaw murmured to himself. "If I'd +spoken the way I thought I had he'd have been wide-awake." And then he +in his turn composed himself to slumber.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They were very quiet at breakfast. Bryce was turning the situation over +in his mind, viewing it from all possible angles and seeking some method +of getting Cumshaw to speak without in any way antagonising him. Cumshaw +himself was troubled by lingering doubts. It was quite possible after +all that Bryce had heard him, supposing he had spoken aloud, and was +quietly dissembling for some purpose of his own. His very thoughtfulness +seemed to lend color to that idea. He looked at Bryce across the carpet +of grass and at the same instant Bryce raised his eyes. They stared at +each other with the breathless intensity of two men who know that in all +things they are evenly matched. Each was striving to the last atom of +his will-power to break down the resistance of the other and force him +in some way to take the initiative. At last it was Bryce who dropped his +eyes a fraction and Cumshaw who breathed a sigh of relief. But his +relief was short-lived, for in the last half-second his guard had +relaxed. Bryce said:</p> + +<p>"Why did Bradby want to kill you, Mr. Cumshaw?"</p> + +<p>The quick yet calm question, covering as it did the one episode of which +nobody but the two participants could possibly have any knowledge, +startled Cumshaw. For once his impassive face showed signs of fear, and +his eyes became those of a hunted man. He half-rose to his feet and then +dropped back again, as if aware of the uselessness of flight. He tried +to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. In one short sentence Bryce +had shattered all his hopes and pulled his airy castles to the ground. +Did this man but like to speak he would be once again Cumshaw the +bushranger, the man who had been hand in glove with Bradby, and who, +through some miracle of mischance, had not been bracketed with his dead +colleague. Bryce knew all apparently, and a word from him——. Cumshaw +shivered.</p> + +<p>"You can trust me," Bryce said softly. "I guess I know your secret now. +You and Bradby carried out that robbery between you. You hid the gold, +and for one reason and another you've never retrieved it. Isn't that +it?"</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded. It was too late now to deny anything, even if he had so +felt inclined. Nemesis in the shape of this laughing-eyed, gross-bodied +man, had come upon him in his old age, and there was nothing for it but +to take what was coming with as good a grace as he could muster.</p> + +<p>"What happened thirty years or more ago is over and done with," Bryce +ran on, "and I'm not the sort to bring it into the light of day again. +I'm after that gold, and, in order to get it, I'm quite ready to repeat +my previous offer. We each seem to have something that the other lacks. +You can tell me many things I don't know. Of that I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"There's a lot of things you seem sure of," Cumshaw said with a +half-defiant air.</p> + +<p>"I'm as sure that you're the man who was with Bradby as if I'd seen it +all myself," Bryce stated. "Remember, before you refuse, that it's +always better to compromise than fight. Furthermore, if you have to +fight, it's much better to have an ally you can rely on."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Cumshaw demanded with a show of interest. "What do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"Only this," Bryce said slowly. "There's another crowd on the track, and +they've already warned me that they'll make the going heavy. If you've +got to be up against them, why not throw in your lot with me? It's +fifty-fifty with us; if you stand out on your own, you'll probably lose +it all."</p> + +<p>"I think you've got me in a cleft stick," Cumshaw said a trifle +ruefully. "I can't see that I can refuse. Now how much do you know?"</p> + +<p>Said Mr. Bryce untruthfully, "I know everything except where you've +hidden the gold."</p> + +<p>"And even I couldn't swear to that," Cumshaw said.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said Bryce dryly, "that the best thing you can do is +to tell me the whole story."</p> + +<p>He listened eagerly to the tale, occasionally stopping the other to +question him on some obscure point, sometimes helping him along with a +comment that threw unexpected light in the dark corners of the story.</p> + +<p>"It amounts to this," he said when Cumshaw had finished. "Bradby buried +the gold in this hidden valley of yours. It's so hidden—the valley, I +mean—that you only came on it by accident, and you have no definite +idea as to its whereabouts. It's three or four days' journey into the +mountains, that's all you can say. There's no way of recognising it from +the outside that you know of. Well, I'll tell you this, Mr. Cumshaw. +It's my frank opinion that your clever murderous friend had some way of +finding it again, or he wouldn't have been in such haste to make away +with you. He knew what he was doing, you can depend on it. Now I wonder +if he left any clue?"</p> + +<p>"I've got a hazy memory that he left directions somewhere and that I had +them," Cumshaw said despondently, "but I can't say what happened to +them. You must remember that I was wandering about half-delirious for a +long while after I got knocked, and it was years before I got really +right again. I might have lost any note he made; I might have done +anything with it."</p> + +<p>"You might have and that's a fact," Mr. Bryce agreed. "Now you say +you've hunted for this valley many times during the last ten years or +so."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded. "It seems funny," he said, "but I've never been able to +find it."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing funny about it," Bryce told him. "History and fiction +abound with instances of similar miscalculations. I'll guarantee that +there are scores of such places in every continent in the world. +Australia's got just as many as any other place. What made you want to +hunt it up again after all those years?"</p> + +<p>"Old associations, I suppose," Cumshaw said half-ashamedly. "While I was +in New South Wales—I went there, you understand, until things blew over +a bit—and my wife was alive, I didn't want anything else but to be near +her. When she died and things began to go wrong with me, I drifted back +here. Money was short. I was living as best I could, and there were the +children to look after, and the sight of the old places brought things +back to my mind. I was beginning to dig bits up from the memory of the +past—the doctors have some fancy name for lapses like mine, though I +could never remember what it was—and then one day I asked myself why +shouldn't I go after the gold? It was as much mine as anyone else's, now +that Bradby was dead, and the Bank that originally owned it had gone +smash about the Land Boom time from what I could gather. I went, but I +missed the place somehow. I went time and again, but it was always like +that 'Lost Mountain' story of Mayne Reid's, though a valley's harder to +find than a mountain you'd think. I couldn't find it anyhow, and that's +about all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"Um!" said Mr. Bryce, and he ran his hand softly across his chin. "We +are up against a bigger thing than I thought. I'm hanged if I can see a +glimmer of light anywhere. Is there anything you can suggest?"</p> + +<p>Cumshaw did not reply. He was staring straight ahead of him, staring +intently, and little furrows of anxiety marred the serenity of his +forehead. He was peering into the shadows of the trees as if his eyes +were twin searchlights that could cut substance from the gloom. He was +staring so intently that Bryce whirled round, fully convinced that his +friends of the telephone were upon them.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?" he queried in a hoarse whisper. "What are you looking +at?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Cumshaw. "I thought I heard something moving, that's +all."</p> + +<p>Bryce in his turn peered intently in between the tree-boles, but the +shadows lay thick upon the grass between, and it was difficult to define +even the shapes of the more distant timber. The place was still and +gloomy, full of grim forebodings, like a summer sky in which a storm is +gathering.</p> + +<p>"We must have been mistaken," Bryce remarked in his embracing way. +"There doesn't seem to be anyone about."</p> + +<p>"Hands up!" snapped a crisp voice, and in the surprise of the moment +Bryce obeyed. Cumshaw had no such intention. He dropped suddenly on to +the ground even as a shot rang out, and a bullet whistled close above +his head. The next instant he was crashing swiftly through the bushes, +spinning down into the gully like a human projectile.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIIIa" id="Chapter_VIIIa"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE GATHERING OF THE EAGLES.</h3> + + +<p>At first Bryce could see nothing but the dull gleam of unpolished metal +from the barrel of a revolver which protruded from behind a tree, but a +further scrutiny showed him the dim outlines of a man's figure standing +in that place of gloom and ghosts. The man stepped out from his +hiding-place, even as Bryce watched him, and was followed almost +instantly by another man. They were both somewhere about the same +height, in the neighbourhood of five feet ten. Their features were not +visible, for each of them wore a handkerchief about his face in the +time-honored fashion of the men of the road, and a hat pulled well down +over the eyes completed the disguise.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Bryce," said the man in front, "what have you got to say for +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"It's a funny thing," remarked Bryce, with the adventures of Mr. Cumshaw +and the late Mr. Bradby in his mind, "it's funny how history repeats +itself."</p> + +<p>The leader made a step forward and stared intently at Bryce. "You're the +man right enough," he said. "Where's your pal?"</p> + +<p>"Ask me something easy," sneered Bryce, "and I'd be obliged if you'd let +me drop my hands awhile. This is getting fairly tiresome."</p> + +<p>"You should have thought of that before you started that business," the +other one reminded him. "It's rather late now to be finding out the +flaws in your plans."</p> + +<p>The sneering smile on Mr. Bryce's face broadened into a grin of triumph. +"Didn't you ever hear the proverb about glass-houses and the people who +live in them?" he enquired blandly.</p> + +<p>The first speaker stared at him, but the other one said impatiently, +"Finish him off, Alick, and let's get it over."</p> + +<p>The man called Alick answered in a subdued voice. Bryce did not catch +what he said, but supposed it to be a counsel of caution. His smile grew +in intensity, so much so that Alick snapped at him. "What the deuce are +you grinning at, you fat fool?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"You'll know soon enough," Bryce said with a chuckle. He looked right +past them into the shadows of the trees, on his face the joyful +expression of a man who sees the long-locked gates of his prison swing +open before him. Both men whirled round with a chorus of oaths. They +were quite positive that Bryce's mate had stolen a march on them and +crept up behind their backs. They had their heads turned away but for +the fraction of a second, but the time, short though it was, was plenty +long enough for Mr. Bryce. With an agility, remarkable in a man of his +weight and state of health, he faded into the landscape like some fat +fairy.</p> + +<p>"Fooled!" said Alick's companion, and he whipped round to face his +prisoner, only to find that the keen-brained Mr. Bryce had vanished as +completely as if he had been blown off the face of the earth.</p> + +<p>"Nice pair of goats we are," remarked Alick disgustedly.</p> + +<p>The other said nothing, but stood for a moment in a state of indecision. +At that precise instant a pencil of flame shot out from one of the trees +immediately in front of them, and Alick dropped his revolver with a howl +of pain.</p> + +<p>"He's winged me," he said, and applied to Mr. Bryce an epithet not +usually heard in polite society.</p> + +<p>His mate fired at the tree from which the shot had evidently come, but +the bullet did nothing more than flatten itself against the trunk in a +shower of dust and dry bark. Mr. Bryce's revolver spoke once again. This +time he failed to register.</p> + +<p>"The sooner we get out of this the better," said Alick, with one hand +clasped to his injured shoulder. "The beggar'll riddle us both if we +stop here."</p> + +<p>The other man grunted his approval of the suggestion and proceeded to +carry it into effect at once.</p> + +<p>"Better look where you are going," Alick advised. "That other chap's +about somewhere, perhaps waiting for us."</p> + +<p>The other consigned both Bryce and his assistant to a place more noted +for its warmth than its comfort. Despite their forebodings Mr. Cumshaw +did not put in an appearance, and they gained the shelter of the thick +timber in safety.</p> + +<p>Once he was sure that they had really departed Mr. Bryce stepped out +from behind his tree, first, however, with commendable caution reloading +the heavy revolver he carried. The smile was still flickering about the +corners of his mouth, but there was a little wrinkle of anxiety across +his forehead.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where the devil Cumshaw's gone?" he remarked to the +unresponsive trees. "He went off like a scared rabbit. I'd better hunt +for him. I can't get on without him now."</p> + +<p>With the laudable intention of finding Mr. Cumshaw as soon as possible +he began to scour the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Cumshaw disappeared so precipitately it was with the idea that +he must maintain his freedom at any cost. True, Bryce might be captured, +but by the same token he could be rescued just as easily. Though his +intentions were right enough he was prevented in the simplest manner +possible from carrying them into effect. He went crashing through the +bushes as has already been related, and found himself on the edge of +what was nothing more or less than a blind creek. The sides were covered +with matted brushwood and were as slippery as glass. His momentum was +such that he could not stop himself in time, and he went head over heels +down the side of the gully, and spun on to the boulder-covered bottom +like some new and monstrous kind of Catherine wheel. He collided with +the rounded surface of one of the big weather-worn rocks which lay +strewn about the gully floor like the tremendous marbles of a giant.</p> + +<p>The world spun round him in a blaze of colored lights, and his head felt +as if it were filled with fireworks. Then in an instant all sensation +ceased as though cut off with the clean sweep of a naked sword. Mr. +Cumshaw lay still and lifeless under the shadow of the brushwood-covered +gully.</p> + +<p>Some half an hour later, when Bryce happened on this very spot, he +pulled the bushes aside cautiously and peered down almost between his +toes; but the shadows lay thick beneath him, and the edge of the gully +so projected that he could not see the body of the man for whom he was +searching. Slowly he retraced his steps. He was deeply puzzled by this +new aspect of the affair. It seemed impossible that Cumshaw could have +completely disappeared in so short a space of time, yet the fact that he +could not be found was in itself proof conclusive. Had Bryce lingered a +couple of seconds longer he would have seen the rapidly-recovering +Cumshaw turn over on his side, raise one hand to his head, and present a +startled face to the scanty rays of light that filtered down to him. In +a sense his revival was something more than a recovery; it was a +resurrection. The years rolled away in an instant, and he ceased to be +the Abel Cumshaw who had fallen down the side of the gully and cracked +his head against an extra-large sized boulder; he became the Abel +Cumshaw who had just been knocked into unconsciousness by the butt of +Mr. Bradby's revolver, and whose head still throbbed with the force of +the blow.</p> + +<p>He stared uncomprehendingly at the steep sides of the gully; they had no +place in his gallery of mental pictures. He had a vague idea that there +should be a creek somewhere close at hand. His head was throbbing, +pulsing as if some mighty engine were working inside it. He rose +unsteadily to his feet and regarded the steep declivities which formed +the sides of the gully with a contemplative eye. He decided that they +were climbable, but that he must wait awhile before he made the attempt. +He was weak yet; one does not recover instantaneously from a crack on +the head. He moved very carefully when he moved at all, and he kept well +within the shadows of the overhanging banks. Mr. Bradby was somewhere +handy, he argued, extremely ready and willing to finish him off, and it +would never do to give him another chance. He had no idea that Mr. +Bradby had died long years ago. Time had telescoped and he was back +again in the early eighties. With the addled craftiness of a half-witted +creature he set about escaping from the imprisoning walls of the +gully-dungeon. Had it been anything else than a blind creek he would +have found an exit by following the dry bed, and thus have disappeared +entirely from this story. But it was fated otherwise. The one idea that +gained any sort of prominence in his mind was that he must climb the +side of the gully.</p> + +<p>He found a pool of clear rainwater in a little cavity in the dry bed of +the creek, and bathed his head in it and drank a little. Its refreshing +coolness acted on his jaded body like the sting of a spur on the flank +of a lazy horse. He crept cautiously in under the overhang of the bank +and searched about for a foothold. Such was not hard to find, and, in +less time than it takes to write of it, he was swinging up the side of +the bank, clinging to projecting ledges of rock with hands and feet that +seemed to possess all the prehensile quality of a monkey's. Once on the +top of the bank he burrowed into the mass of vegetation like some +primeval creature taking to earth, a pitiful caricature of the sane, +strong man he had been a few short hours before. Cautious and all as he +was, his flight was not absolutely noiseless, and so it came about that +presently Bryce heard him, and circled round the spot from which the +sound came like a wolf heading off a herd of deer.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw crashed through the bushes and emerged into the open a hundred +yards or so ahead of Bryce. The latter caught sight of him at the moment +of his emergence and called out to him to stop.</p> + +<p>"Cumshaw," he called. "Come here!"</p> + +<p>The other heard the call and caught his own name, but instead of +slackening he accelerated his pace. He did not look round; he was +convinced in his own warped mind that his pursuer was none other than +the late Mr. Bradby. Accordingly he swung along at such a rate that +Bryce soon dropped behind, breathless and dispirited. He sat down on a +convenient log and mopped his damp face with a large-sized handkerchief. +Presently his breathing became normal again, and his agitated heart +ceased fluttering like a caged bird. He fell to reviewing the position. +The more he thought of it, the less hopeless it appeared to be. His +unrecognisable and nameless antagonists had temporarily withdrawn from +the fight, whether to consolidate their forces and plan some new form of +attack, or because they had received a very salutary lesson, he could +not say. Also it did not worry him over much. His ideas were centred +mainly on Mr. Cumshaw. True, that gentleman had disappeared over the +horizon with every mark of unseemly haste, and already he must be well +advanced on whatever road he was taking. Not so very far away the car +awaited Bryce, and he was sure that, once he reached it, it would be +merely a matter of a day or so until he rediscovered Mr. Cumshaw. He +repeated the verb. "Re-discovered" struck a distinctive note. One could +not convey the same meaning with any form of the verb "to overtake;" Mr. +Cumshaw had disappeared, not simply gone on ahead. He chuckled softly at +his own quaint conceit, and at that his spirits began to rise again.</p> + +<p>Feeling now fully rested, he rose to his feet and swung out on the track +with that long slow stride which was all that remained of his athletic +form of the old New Guinea days. Of late years he had walked, when he +had walked at all, with the quick nervous step of the city-bred man, and +it heartened him immensely to know that he was recovering without any +effort of his volition the old easy pioneer stride.</p> + +<p>It is not within the scope of this tale to relate how Mr. Bryce at +length reached his car and set out on what he believed to be Abel +Cumshaw's trail. Suffice it to state that he reached his machine without +any untoward incident, the two gentlemen who had so rudely disturbed the +serenity of his nature having seemingly disappeared from the face of the +earth. Once he passed a drover and elicited from him that a man +answering Cumshaw's description had passed him on the road the previous +morning. Evidently then the missing man was keeping away from the towns, +taking instead a trail that would inevitably lead him further into the +bush. He was rather pleased at this. Abel Cumshaw in the city would be +as hard to find as the proverbial needle in a bundle of hay, but in the +bush it would be much easier to locate him, Bryce considered. So he +drove the car along at a low speed, keeping all the time a watchful eye +out for any signs of the truant. As he progressed he was surprised and +not a little pleased to find that his New Guinea woodcraft was coming +back to him by degrees. The joy of the chase was his, and he experienced +again the same keen and primitive emotions that had thrilled him in the +days when the elder Carstairs and he had trodden the unexplored wilds of +Papua.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He came upon Cumshaw very suddenly. The car was creeping through the +trees at a snail's pace—there was no clearly defined track in that part +of the bush, and Bryce was taking no unnecessary risks—when he caught +sight of a figure that might or might not be the missing Mr. Cumshaw. He +stopped the car at once and descended to the ground. As has already been +noted earlier in these memoirs, Mr. Bryce, when occasion required it, +for all his huge bulk, could move as agilely and noiselessly as that +pre-eminently silent animal, the domestic cat. He had been so keyed up +by the emotional stresses of the last few days that he threw himself +into the adventure with all the zest of a schoolboy just being +introduced into romance. The man was dodging through the trees a hundred +yards or so ahead, and there was something so furtive about his +movements that Bryce approached with more than his usual caution.</p> + +<p>The man halted and glanced swiftly around. Bryce flattened himself +against a handy tree, and fervently hoped that the shadow was thick +enough to conceal him. The other patently had no idea that he was being +followed, for, apparently quite satisfied with his hasty scrutiny, he +dropped on his knees and commenced scraping the earth away with the +point of a knife that had appeared in his hand with the magical +suddenness of a conjuring trick. As the man worked away Bryce peeped out +from his hiding-place and saw then that it was indeed Cumshaw. He +watched fascinated. His heart was thumping away like the piston of a +steam-engine, and some queer unnamed instinct told him that the chase +was drawing to a close. Cumshaw was digging up something of vital +importance; it might be the treasure itself or perhaps the key to it. +But why should Cumshaw have gone so stealthily to work unless—? "Unless +he is going to cut me out of it," said Bryce to himself.</p> + +<p>Abruptly the other straightened up and hugged something to his breast. +It was covered with black loam, and at the distance Bryce could not tell +what it was. He slipped stealthily from tree to tree until he had wormed +his noiseless way right up to Cumshaw. Then, seeing that he had his man +cut off should he attempt to escape, he stepped out into the open and +laid a kindly hand on the fugitive's shoulder. Cumshaw turned in a +flash, and, in the excitement of the moment, the earth-covered object +slipped out of his hands and fell on the grass at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been all this time?" Bryce asked jovially.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw stared at him in a puzzled way. His face at first had shown all +the symptoms of fear, but the moment Bryce spoke they faded out, to be +replaced by a very obvious air of relief. Yet there was nothing of +recognition in the man's eyes; they were full of a great blank wonder, +like the eyes of a child who takes its first look at the teeming life +beyond its doors. His forehead crinkled up as if he were trying to +recall something that had slipped his memory.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he said at length. "I ... I don't think I know you," and +he brushed his forehead with a weak, ineffective gesture of the hand. It +was then that Bryce noticed the matted, blood-stained condition of his +hair and the big purple bruise that disfigured his temple. His quick +mind guessed at what had happened, though, erroneously enough, he +concluded that Cumshaw had received the blows in an encounter with the +men who had been the original cause of the man's flight.</p> + +<p>"You'd better come with me, Cumshaw," he said in the same soothing tone +that he would have applied to a tired child.</p> + +<p>"I'm going home," said Cumshaw with weak stubbornness. "I don't want to +go with you."</p> + +<p>"I'll take you home," said Bryce.</p> + +<p>That he decided was the only thing he could do. Cumshaw was in no fit +state to continue the search for his lost valley, and Bryce realised +that it would not be safe to leave him uncared for. If he went home with +Cumshaw he would be throwing his pursuers off the track. That would help +him considerably. He had no fear that they would discover the valley +during his absence; their attack on him showed that they had come to the +end of their resources, and fancied that their only hope of touching any +of the spoils was by forcing the secret out of Bryce. Of course it was +quite on the cards that they would follow the car, but it was just as +likely that they would make no definite move until they had solved the +meaning of his change of plans.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw was still standing like a man in a dream. Bryce placed his hand +on the man's arm.</p> + +<p>"Come along with me," he said. "I'll see that you get safely home."</p> + +<p>He bent down quickly and picked up the loam-encrusted object that +Cumshaw had dropped in the first moment of the encounter, Cumshaw +followed his movements with troubled eyes, but did not interfere in any +way. Bryce could see that the thing was a bit of wood, and on one piece +of it, where the earth had been scraped off, there were letters +scratched. He thrust it into his pocket, meaning to examine it more +closely at his leisure.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw walked to the car with him. He yielded to the stronger will +without any show of resistance. All his own will-power seemed to have +departed, and he obeyed Bryce with a child-like faith. Once in the car +he slumped into the corner and closed his eyes. Bryce seized the +opportunity thus given him to steal another look at the wood he had +picked up. He scraped away what loam he could with his finger nail, and +soon was able to make out two complete words.</p> + +<p>"This'll have to wait," he said with a sigh, as he thrust it back into +his pocket. "This bit of wood's got your name on it, Mr. Abel Cumshaw, +and I'll bet all I ever owned that it's the key you've been hunting +for."</p> + +<p>He cranked up the car, and soon was speeding back to the high road. In +his corner Mr. Cumshaw slept.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes after they reached the main road another car swung out along +the Ararat road. There were three men in it, the chauffeur and two +passengers. One of the latter held his hand to a wounded shoulder, and +swore at the chauffeur every time the car jolted and sent a quiver of +pain through the wound.</p> + +<p>In course of time Bryce's car came to a little hamlet on the Geelong to +Colac road—a hamlet that must be nameless in this story. There he found +the Albert Cumshaw of this tale, delivered his father into his care and +told him all that had happened, suppressing only the episode of the +finding of the wood. He found Albert Cumshaw easier to deal with than he +had expected—as a matter of fact the younger man already knew much of +his father's story—and the result of the conversation was that the +search was held over, pending the elder Cumshaw's recovery.</p> + +<p>Bryce remained the night with the Cumshaws, saw that a doctor was +secured who would give skilled attention to the elder man, and then +early in the morning set out for home. The day was very warm, and the +cool breeze that presently sprang up from the ocean moved Bryce to motor +down to the coast. At the worst it was only a few miles out of his road. +At first he had no intention of making a stop at the heads, but the sea +as he came within sight of it looked so cool and inviting that he was +tempted to have a dip. He parked his car in the reserve, purchased a +bathing suit at the local store and ambled down to the beach. It was +only when he commenced to undress that he recollected that the wood was +still in his pocket, so with rare caution he thrust it under the sand, +quite satisfied that no one would dream of looking there. He had no idea +that his pursuers were so close behind him; he was merely taking +precautions against any casual tramp who might be tempted to run through +his pockets.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later James Carstairs, explorer, gentleman and rolling +stone, limped into the picture, and the story of The Lost Valley entered +upon its penultimate phase.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h2> + +<h3><i>THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY.</i></h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_Ib" id="Chapter_Ib"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> I.</h2> + +<h3>THE CYPHER.</h3> + + +<p>"You may smoke if you like, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said graciously to our +visitor.</p> + +<p>I said nothing; instead I silently handed the man my cigar-case. He +selected a weed with a discriminating care that I felt cast an +unwarranted reflection on the quality of the cigars I smoked. I watched +him in silence while he cut off the end with a neat, precise stroke of +his penknife, lit the cigar and blew a cloud of blue smoke out of his +mouth. All the time I was staring at him I could feel Moira's eyes on +me, and I knew that she was wondering what made me so boorish and +morose. Or, perhaps, with a woman's keen instinct for ferreting out the +things she shouldn't know anything about, she guessed just what was the +matter. To tell the truth I was just beginning to feel a little jealous. +Frankly I considered that she was paying too much attention to Mr. +Albert Cumshaw, and I hadn't two sharp eyes without seeing that he +openly admired her. Of course I had turned down her overtures of +reconciliation, and I think I told her plainly enough that there was no +possibility of my falling in love with her again; but, if all that were +perfectly true, I shouldn't have been jealous because the two of them +took to making eyes at each other. The fact remained that I was a little +hurt by what I saw, and I had to recognise, even though I ran counter to +the promptings of my common-sense, that I wasn't as indifferent to her +as I would have myself believe.</p> + +<p>I brought myself back with a jerk to the matter in hand.</p> + +<p>"What do you propose doing about the matter?" I asked of Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>He did not reply immediately. His right little finger flipped the ash +from off the end of his cigar, and then the dark curly head lifted and +the glowing eyes looked straight into mine.</p> + +<p>"What do I propose doing!" he repeated. "Well, if it was left to me," he +said, after a contemplative pause, "I'd say the treasure's there, and +the sooner we go after it the better. We know already that there's other +people on the job—they killed Mr. Bryce and they made a mess of the +Dad—and it's all right thinking, as Mr. Bryce did, that they've come to +the end of their tether and are waiting for us to set the pace for them. +There's been so many miracles in this play already that it doesn't do to +risk the chance of any more. We've got no absolute guarantee that they +won't stumble on the key to everything while we're wasting time here. +You say you've got a cypher Mr. Bryce left you. Well, that cypher +contains the position of the treasure; there's no doubt about that in my +mind. Bradby carved it on the wood—neither he nor the Dad had any paper +with them at the time—and from what I've heard of the man I'm confident +that it's the kind of thing he would do. Then when Mr. Bryce got hold of +it he burnt the wood and threw what was on it into a sort of cryptogram. +One way and another he was pretty cautious when the fit took him, though +I must say that when it was a question of his own life he wasn't so +particular. It boils down to this. The Dad's out of the game for good +and we've got to use our own wits. Within limits we've got a fair idea +of the position of the valley, and, once we've solved the cypher, we'll +probably have something more definite to go on."</p> + +<p>"That," I remarked, "is supposing we do solve it. As far as I can see +it's too weird for anything."</p> + +<p>"Uncle," said Moira severely, "wouldn't have written it if he didn't +think you could solve it. That's why he made it easy."</p> + +<p>"If you think it's easy," I retorted, "take it yourself and see what you +can make of it."</p> + +<p>"That's a good idea," Cumshaw cut in, turning my own shaft against +myself. "Suppose we all have a shot at it and see what we can make of +it. We might get it all out and again we mightn't. When we get as far as +we can we'll all pool our efforts, and maybe we'll make something out of +it that way."</p> + +<p>"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said, and darted a glance +of triumph at me. It said as plainly as so many words that here was a +champion for her, a man who would defend her against the whole world. Of +course I ignored it. What man would do anything else under the +circumstances? But there are some things, of which this was one, that +the more one ignores them the more insistent as to their presence do +they become. So, though I affected not to see Moira's little glance of +triumph, it photographed itself upon my mind's eye and completely +spoiled the evening for me.</p> + +<p>"We'll get Jim here to type out a copy for you before you go, Mr. +Cumshaw," she promised, "and you can see what you can make of it."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said the young man briefly. I had expected him to make a +bigger mouthful of it than that, and I thought it odd that he did not. +It struck me too as queer that he did not ask for a look at the cypher; +an ordinary man would have known no peace until he had examined it in +all its baffling details. As I was to learn, Mr. Cumshaw was no ordinary +man, and, for a young chap of his age, had his emotions and inclinations +under rather remarkable control.</p> + +<p>I stood up. "If you want that cypher," I said, "I'll type it out now, +and you can study it on the way home if you wish."</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you," Cumshaw murmured with a well-bred lack of +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Moira, "that we'd all better adjourn to the study. I +don't like to think of anyone being in there alone, especially at night. +You see," she explained to Cumshaw, "the room hasn't been used since +Uncle's death. He was killed in that very room ... in front of my eyes."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Cumshaw softly, and he rose to his feet and held +the door open for Moira to pass out. She led the way to the study and +unlocked the door. It had been a fad of hers ever since the tragedy to +keep the room sealed, and, as I saw no reason for gainsaying her, I had +never interfered. She switched on the light and we stood for a moment on +the threshold, dazzled by the unaccustomed radiance. Nothing in the +place had been touched—we had not disturbed anything during our search +for Bryce's papers—and, save for the absence of some of the actors in +the scene, it might have been the very night of the tragedy itself.</p> + +<p>I broke the spell by walking into the room and proceeding to take the +cover off the typewriter. The machine had not been used since its owner +had died. Despite the manner in which I had lied to Bryce, I knew a +thing or two about typewriters. As a matter of fact I transcribed the +greater part of my father's three volumes of Solomon Island Ethnology on +just such another machine. I sat down at the table and drew from my +pocket the letter and the cypher, both of which I had thrust out of +sight when Albert Cumshaw had been announced that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"There's the cypher," I said, and I spread the sheet out on the table.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw bent over it and read out aloud from beginning to end.</p> + +<p>"2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@ 3 @75 £994 1/4;£ 5@3 48½8;? ½7; ¼43 8; & 8;3 +—3¼½743 ½3:3; "335 3¼½5.5@3; "¼/3 £843/5 +;945@¾£4¼2 +¼;95@34 &8;3 ¼5 +48?@5 ¼;?&3½ 59 5@3 043:897½ 9;3¾3)53;£8;? " 94 523&:3 "335.£8? 5@3;," +he said, stumbling every now and then at the unfamiliar expressions.</p> + +<p>"What do you make of it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He looked up at me with just the flicker of a smile about the corners of +his mouth. "I can't say just yet," he replied. "All these things take +time. You can't solve them in an instant."</p> + +<p>"I thought we might," I said, with just the least hint of offensiveness +in my tone. I don't know whether or not he noticed it, but if he did he +was gentleman enough to ignore it.</p> + +<p>"All right," I ran on, "I'll type this out if one of you'll read it to +me. Go slowly, as I don't want to have any mistakes. It's bad enough to +have to do it once without having to do it again."</p> + +<p>"I'll read it," Cumshaw volunteered. I nodded to show my agreement. I +then threaded the paper through and said, "I'm ready."</p> + +<p>He began to read it very slowly and carefully, and I typed away as he +spoke. I had just got the first four or five combinations down when +Moira interrupted me.</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd make a mess of it," she said coldly. "I told you so at the +beginning." As a matter of fact she had said no such thing, but I let it +pass.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?" I queried, looking up at her.</p> + +<p>"I've been watching you," said she, "and you haven't depressed your +figure lever once. You must have it all wrong. It'll just be simple +letters instead of the signs."</p> + +<p>I had been typing all the time with my eyes on the keyboard, and I +hadn't once glanced at the finished work. Now I looked at it I saw that +she was right. I had been typing letters all along when I should have +been printing figures. And then something queer about the letters struck +me. My heart gave a jump.</p> + +<p>"Go on," I said huskily to Cumshaw. "Give me a few more."</p> + +<p>He read out two or three more combinations and then I leaned back in the +chair. "Look," I said triumphantly, "look what I've done!"</p> + +<p>Two heads bobbed down over my work, stared at it for a moment, and then +two pairs of eyes smiled at me.</p> + +<p>"You've solved it by accident," said Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for what I said," Moira said simply.</p> + +<p>"It's just the simplest cypher in existence," I said. "You've got a +keyboard with letters and figures on it. When you want letters you type +straight out, and when you want figures you just depress the lever. Now +look at this. That 5 is on the same key as T, @ is on H's key, 3 means +E, and so on. When Bryce worked it out he simply pressed down the figure +lever and left it down, and now to reverse the process all we've got to +do is to hit the keys these signs are on and leave the lever alone. +Simple, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Very," said Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>"Get it all out, Jim, quick!" said Moira with feminine impatience.</p> + +<p>I did. I pressed 2 and I got W, and so on all along the keyboard, and +when I had finished I pulled the sheet out and handed it to them. "Read +it out, Moira," I said. "It's your turn."</p> + +<p>"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'"</p> + +<p>"If it hadn't been for you," said Cumshaw, "we wouldn't have found it. I +congratulate you," and he held out his hand to me.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" I said. "It was all a lucky accident." But all the same I +took the proffered hand.</p> + +<p>"We can go right on with it now," Moira cried joyously. "There's nothing +to stop us."</p> + +<p>"Only that we've got to find the valley yet," said Cumshaw gloomily. "My +father made several attempts but couldn't locate it."</p> + +<p>"You've got to bear in mind," I told them, "that we've got some +information your father hadn't, strange though it seems."</p> + +<p>"And that?" Cumshaw queried quickly.</p> + +<p>"We're looking for a valley that's got a lone tree overlooking it. Your +father didn't seem to be aware of that."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw seized the paper and read it through quickly. "By the Lord +Harry, you're right, Carstairs! That's one piece of information he +didn't have. If he had known that when he went after the gold himself +he'd have got it."</p> + +<p>"Maybe he would," I said doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem too sure of it, Carstairs," Cumshaw remarked, with a +sidelong glance at Moira.</p> + +<p>"No more I am," I told him. "I don't like our chances either."</p> + +<p>"But," he protested with a puzzled indrawing of his eyebrows, "as far as +we're concerned it's as easy as falling off a log."</p> + +<p>"Just as easy," I agreed, "providing our friends the enemy don't +interfere. They don't seem to be the kind of men who rest on their oars, +that is if we can judge anything from their past exploits."</p> + +<p>"You're right there, Carstairs," Cumshaw said. "I never gave them a +thought, but I see now that they're likely to prove a pretty active +menace to our safety."</p> + +<p>"That," I said, turning to Moira, "cuts out all possibility of your +coming with us. You can't be running into danger."</p> + +<p>"Can't I just," she said with an assertive toss of her head, "and, +whether I can or not, I'm going," she finished.</p> + +<p>I looked at Cumshaw. I could not tell from his expression whether he was +pleased or sorry. His face was as devoid of emotion as that of a china +doll.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about it?" I asked him straight out.</p> + +<p>He glanced at me in his turn with a curious baffling light in his dark +eyes, and I felt as if he had stripped my soul bare of all pretences and +was reading my thoughts in all their nakedness.</p> + +<p>"I should think," he said at length with an air of absolute +impartiality, "that Miss Drummond is the mistress of her own actions and +neither you nor I have any right to dictate what she is to do."</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way then," I said, with difficulty suppressing my +rising anger. "But if anything goes wrong remember that I warned you +beforehand."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember that," Moira said, and she favored Cumshaw with a little +smile of gratitude. She never smiled at me like that, not even in those +far-away days when we were all the world to each other or thought we +were. Which in the end amounts to much the same thing.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't mind," said Cumshaw, breaking an awkward silence, +"I'll go home now and think matters over. And then to-morrow we'll +decide what to do."</p> + +<p>"Home?" I echoed. "I thought——" And then I stopped.</p> + +<p>"I'm staying in town," he said with a smile. "That's what I meant when I +said home."</p> + +<p>"In that case," I said, "you'll be handy whenever we want you. You'd +better leave your address in case we want you in a hurry."</p> + +<p>He scribbled his address—a leading city hotel—on a blank card and +handed it to me. I glanced at it and then thrust it into my pocket. When +I looked up again he was holding Moira's hand in his, just a trifle +longer than convention demanded I thought, and saying something to her +that I did not catch. She smiled in return, a dazzling smile, and said +quite distinctly, "Please call whenever you feel inclined. There is no +need for us to stand on ceremony with each other now we're partners."</p> + +<p>I saw him to the door. At the threshold he turned and spoke with one +foot on the step and the other on the ground, taking up that attitude of +unaffected ease that gives an air of friendliness to even the most +formal conversation.</p> + +<p>"I'm rather pleased I met you, Carstairs," he said. "In one way and +another I've heard a lot about you, and I think you've got the kind of +level head we'll need before we've seen this business through."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I replied. I was nearly going to say 'Soft words butter no +parsnips,' but my common-sense came to my aid just in time to prevent me +making a fool of myself. He held out his hand, and I took it in the +spirit in which he had offered it to me. Nevertheless I was absurdly +jealous of the man, though Heaven knows I hadn't the least reason to be. +I could see with half an eye that he had made a good impression on +Moira, and the way she had spoken to him, especially that last remark of +hers, showed me that she was egging him on. It didn't matter one single +solitary damn to me. I had told her clearly and definitely that we were +business partners and that love was altogether out of the question. Yet +here was I, the moment a potential rival appeared on the scene, behaving +for all the world like a spoilt child. And, like a spoilt child, for my +own good I needed someone to bring me sharply and suddenly to my +bearings.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw bade me a cheerful good-night. I saw his lithe figure swing +along through the sub-tropical darkness of a moonless summer night. Then +the latch on the gate clicked with the ringing sound of metal striking +against metal. I closed the door and went inside.</p> + +<p>Moira was standing in the study just as I had left her, standing as +motionless and devoid of life as a statue of carven stone. I don't think +she heard me at first.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said conversationally, "how is it now?"</p> + +<p>She turned at the sound of my voice and faced me squarely. I could see +that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and something inside of me +moved me with a sudden impulse to go up to her. I placed my hands on her +shoulders and was amazed to find how unsteady they were. They trembled, +my hands trembled! And yet they used to tell me in the old Island days +that I hadn't a nerve in my body.</p> + +<p>I was quite prepared for anything except what really happened. I could +feel a sort of tension in the atmosphere, and I expected her to do +something theatrical. But she didn't. She backed away from me, but she +didn't go far. The table was behind her.</p> + +<p>I don't know how long we stood looking at each other. It seemed a +lifetime to me, and the silence was the sort that a man feels it +sacrilege to break.</p> + +<p>"You make it very hard for me, Jim," Moira said calmly. The tears were +still in her eyes, but her voice was under excellent control. It didn't +vibrate a note. She looked at me as she spoke, looked me straight in the +eyes, and I think it was then that I began to realise what an ass I had +been making of myself.</p> + +<p>"How do I make it hard?" I asked. My voice was curiously low, almost +husky in fact. I rather think she noticed it and took heart therefrom. A +man is very easy to handle when he is not quite sure of himself.</p> + +<p>"I've got to pretend," she said in answer to my question. "Pretend that +you are nothing to me when——"</p> + +<p>She stopped short. It seemed almost as if she regretted that she had +said so much.</p> + +<p>"Go on," I urged.</p> + +<p>"There's not much to say," she continued. "I just want to tell you, to +tell you in such a way that you'll believe me, that if I've treated you +shamefully I've suffered for it. I can't make any reparation for it; you +were quite right in saying that it is too late now to alter things. I +just want you to know that I'm sorry. I can't say much more than that, +though I don't want to take any credit for it now, seeing that it's been +practically forced out of me."</p> + +<p>I remembered the way she had been standing when I came in, the tears in +her eyes, and the way she had backed out of my reach the moment I put my +hands on her shoulders. It would have been so easy for her to have done +the other thing, but she hadn't, and I admired her all the more for it. +She might easily have captured me in the first flush of emotion, but she +had instead given me time to think and a chance to get away if I wanted +to. There was something in her attitude that appealed to my sense of +fair play and at the same time prevented me from in any way +misinterpreting her last remark.</p> + +<p>"Moira," I said, "were you crying when I came in just now?"</p> + +<p>Her lip trembled a little as she asked, "Why do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Because," I said slowly, "I've solved one riddle already to-night, and +I've a mind to solve another before I go to bed."</p> + +<p>"I was crying," she admitted, "only I didn't mean you to see."</p> + +<p>"And why was that?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you might imagine I was just doing it."</p> + +<p>I knew what she meant; there was no need for her to explain further. She +didn't want to influence me in any way; whatever I did must be done of +my own free will.</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to understand," I said slowly.</p> + +<p>"Then you'll forgive?" she said quickly, and one hand went up to her +throat as if she were choking.</p> + +<p>I nodded and impulsively she held out her hand to me. I did not take it, +and she half-turned so that I would not see what was in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Can't we even be friends?" she said, with a queer little catch in her +words.</p> + +<p>Something snapped in my head at that, and the words I had been holding +back all the evening came to my lips in a rush of speech.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean you to take it that way," I said desperately. "I wouldn't +shake hands because ... that's not what I want. It's too stand-offish. +I'm going to do more than forgive, and we're going to me more than +friends, if you still want me."</p> + +<p>"You know I want you," she said softly with her head bowed shyly and the +blushes rising in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>I took her in my arms and kissed her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IIb" id="Chapter_IIb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> II.</h2> + +<h3>OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY.</h3> + + +<p>Once we had definitely fixed the date of our departure we lost no time +in making ready. As the days went by I began to see more and more +clearly that it was just as well I had thrown in my lot with Moira and +young Cumshaw. Neither of them had the least idea of organisation, and +they seemed to think that things just happened of their own accord. +Moira couldn't see anything else but the glamor and romance of the +adventure, and I found that, for all his cleverness, Albert Cumshaw did +not know what was essential to the expedition and what wasn't.</p> + +<p>"We can't start off like a picnic party," I said to them on one +occasion, "and just wander on until we come to a likely spot. We've got +to have everything planned out right down to the last box of matches and +the last cartridge."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw drew a deep breath. "Cartridges!" he said, "Are you talking +figuratively?"</p> + +<p>"No," I answered. "I'm speaking literally. It might yet be the case of +the last cartridge. You must remember that, even if we get the gold and +come back here in safety, we're still not out of the wood. We're not +safe until our friends the enemy are removed from our paths for ever."</p> + +<p>"You mean that they must be killed?" Moira demanded.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean anything of the kind," I answered. "As a matter of fact +I've got a perfect horror of killing people. It makes such a mess, and +I'm naturally a rather tidy person."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw laughed softly, but Moira bit her lip, though she made no reply +to what I had said.</p> + +<p>"Now, while we're talking about it," I ran on, "I just want to impress +on you the fact that we aren't going off into the bush—not the kind of +bush that you read about in books, where it's all scrub and myall blacks +and things like that. Most of the time we'll be within coo-ee of +civilisation. Most of Western Victoria's pretty well settled, and it's +just the luck of the game and the formation of the country that this +valley's remained so long hidden away. We'll be near enough to people +all the time to be noticeable if we do anything remarkable. We've got to +go to work so that we'll attract as little attention as possible. We'll +want food, enough for several weeks, I suppose, and we've got to get it +and take it with us, and do it all in such a way that nobody's going to +wonder what we're after. Another thing that that reminds me of. Miss +Drummond here had better keep out of sight as long as she can. We two +can manage to escape observation, but people always want to know what a +woman's doing in it when there's anything suspicious happening."</p> + +<p>"If you mean by that that you think I can be turned back at the last +moment, you're making a mistake," Moira informed me.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that," I said calmly, "but I want to take every precaution +that I can. I'm in charge of this expedition, elected by three votes to +nothing, and I'm going to run things the way I think best. It mightn't +be the best way in the end, but that's quite another matter. I haven't +wandered across the world from Yokohama to the White Nile and from the +Klondyke to the Solomons without knowing how to organise an expedition."</p> + +<p>"You're right there," Cumshaw acknowledged. "You're the only one amongst +us who's had practical experience. In future what you say goes."</p> + +<p>"That's the spirit," I said briskly. "What have you to say, Moira?"</p> + +<p>"You know best," she answered. "As long as you don't leave me out +altogether I'll agree to anything, but I want to take my share of the +risk too."</p> + +<p>"Apparently," I remarked, "everyone's afraid that everybody else'll have +the lion's share of the fighting. Well, if I can fix it, there'll not be +any fighting at all."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Cumshaw asked interestedly.</p> + +<p>"That's nothing to do with the situation at present," I informed him. +"You'll all see when the time's ripe. Now what's next?"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing more that I know of," Cumshaw volunteered.</p> + +<p>"And you, Moira?"</p> + +<p>"I think I've got everything fixed," she answered.</p> + +<p>"That means we can start at the end of the week," I said with +satisfaction. "It looks as if fortune's turning our way at last."</p> + +<p>The three of us laughed together, and Cumshaw I think it was who said, +"Success to the expedition!" It sounded very nice, and we were all so +sure that things were going to turn out well. But there was one little +point that all of us had overlooked, and that was destined in one way +and another to upset our plans to a remarkable extent.</p> + +<p>Profiting by Bryce's experience, I decided to leave the car at home, as +I realised that we would have to abandon it sooner or later, and nothing +is so apt to set foolish people talking as an apparently ownerless car. +I resolved on making our headquarters at the spot where by all accounts +the unlamented Mr. Bradby had met his death. For one thing all the later +developments of the chase had centred round that one spot, and Bryce +himself had gone there unhesitatingly by the shortest and most direct +route he knew of. I couldn't see at the time where I could find a better +jumping-off place. To say the least it was a fixed point from which to +start exploring, and we had the comforting knowledge, though it might +not be of any practical use to us, that the valley itself was within two +or three days' march. With it as the centre we would have to cast a +circle with a radius of anything up to fifty miles, and then somewhere +within the enclosed area we might, or might not, find the elusive vale +that held the treasure.</p> + +<p>We approached the rendezvous by widely divergent routes. It was a rather +extravagant precaution, no doubt, but then I wasn't taking any risks +that I could possibly avoid. The murderous gentlemen who were quite +certainly on our track were a power to be reckoned with, and at the same +time we had to keep our eyes open for the law itself. It was all right +for Bryce to say that he was playing within the law—quite possibly he +was—but I had no idea of paying any percentage to the Crown. I was +rather hazy on the matter myself, though I seemed to have heard +somewhere or other that the Government always gobbled a big share of the +loot in the case of treasure trove. At any rate the quieter we kept the +expedition the less likelihood there was of us having to pay anything at +all.</p> + +<p>Moira was to travel with me from Murtoa, and Cumshaw decided to train as +far as Landsborough—the recently opened Crowlands to Navarre railway +would take him that far—and then do the rest across the hills on foot. +His was the longer and more difficult route, and I had intended at first +to take it myself, for reasons that have nothing at all to do with this +tale; but he was so insistent, and at one stage threatened so much +unpleasantness, that I gave into him, if only for the sake of peace. +Before we started I had another talk with Moira and endeavored to +dissuade her from accompanying us, but she very calmly told me that she +had additional reasons now for going with us. There was sure to be +trouble, she admitted that much; but then wasn't her place by my side, +more especially if things weren't all they should be? Her logic left +much to be desired, but it had the one merit of achieving its object. It +was devastating; it completely crushed all my arguments and left me +without a leg to stand on.</p> + +<p>The late March of the year 1919 saw the three of us at the rendezvous, +which we had reached without incident of any sort. Contrary to our +expectations the other party had not been sighted, and the outlook was +certainly auspicious. For all that I felt worried. Everything was going +along too swimmingly, and I had a queer feeling that we would meet with +trouble very shortly, if only to even things up. Ease and success can +only be won after much expenditure of blood and tears; there is not a +thing in life worth trying for that can be bought with a minimum of +effort. The greater the prize, the greater the price one must pay; +always one pays, with health, with limbs, sometimes with life itself.</p> + +<p>During the time Moira and I had been travelling together I had slept of +a night with one eye more or less open, and the strain of being +constantly on the alert was just beginning to tell on me. As a +consequence I was very pleased when Cumshaw suggested that we should +take watch and watch about. I agreed, with the reservation that I must +always be on guard for the dawn-watch. I didn't explain why I was so +anxious to take that particular watch, and, though I noticed Moira +looking curiously at me, she made no remark. I knew from experience that +men are at their sleepiest about four o'clock in the morning, and an +attack can be successfully launched then that would fail at any other +hour of the day or night. I had yet to test Cumshaw on active service, +so I claimed the four o'clock stretch for my own. It doesn't hurt to be +careful; I've never yet met anyone who was sorry he had taken +precautions.</p> + +<p>We camped within a hundred yards of the creek, and after supper Cumshaw +and I sprawled on the grass and talked. Moira had retired to an +improvised tent we had fashioned for her, and, as it was just out of +earshot, we were free to speak our thoughts. I had not seen Cumshaw for +the better part of two weeks—he had started from his own place and come +right on from there without calling on me again—and I hoped that he +might have some further news for me. I asked him casually how his father +was getting on.</p> + +<p>"Right enough," he said, blowing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. +"Some days you wouldn't think there was a thing wrong with him. He'll +talk pretty lucidly at times, but it isn't anything that can be of any +use to us. He doesn't seem to have taken much notice of the position of +the valley, he apparently thought at the time that it would be very +simple to pick it up again, and I fancy that Bradby must have confirmed +him in that view. He couldn't have taken into account the way they had +twisted about in the mountains. It's the simplest thing in the world to +lose yourself here, the more so if you're confident you know your way."</p> + +<p>"You've about struck it there," I said. "I just want to give you a +little piece of advice, and I hope you won't take it amiss. I don't want +to talk about this expedition any more than I can help for two reasons. +One's this: I don't wish to cause Miss Drummond any more uneasiness than +is absolutely necessary. You know as well as I do that there's a big +chance of the lot of us being wiped out just about the time we get +within sight of the end. I wouldn't be surprised if they let us walk +into a trap and finished us at their leisure. As for the other +reason—well, it's never safe to say that you're alone anywhere. If we +raise our voices above whispers here we might be giving away valuable +information. So just let us keep watch on our tongues. More hopes have +been ruined and more chances of success spoilt by gabbling tongues than +by any other dozen causes all rolled together."</p> + +<p>"I can quite understand that," Cumshaw said, between puffs at his pipe. +It was one of those neat little affairs with a round bowl, a +spick-and-span pipe that had burnt an even color and that shone as +brightly as the day he bought it. My pipe was a sorrier article; it was +battered and blackened, and one side of the bowl was down beneath the +level of the other, showing that it had been lighted oftener with a +blazing brand than with the orthodox matches. In a way it was like its +owner; it had been tested by fire and had survived the test. If I were +philosophical—but then I wasn't, and that's about all there is to it.</p> + +<p>"I didn't go to Landsborough," Cumshaw said after a pause. "I missed my +train at Ararat, and so I came on to Great Western. It's much the +shorter way. I wish you had known of it before."</p> + +<p>"I'm all the better pleased you came that way," I told him. "It will +help to disorganise the chase."</p> + +<p>He bent over, picked up a live coal in his bare fingers and applied it +to his pipe before replying.</p> + +<p>"I rather think," he said slowly, "that it will have just the opposite +effect."</p> + +<p>"You can't have any nerves in those fingertips of yours," I said. "Why +will it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't seem to have any, do I? I think I saw one of the men at Great +Western."</p> + +<p>"You don't know them," I said. "How could you?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bryce described them in his letter," Cumshaw answered. "This man +fitted the description of one of them, a dark sort of chap."</p> + +<p>"Spanish type?" I queried.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw nodded. "I wonder why it is," he ran on, "that we're always more +suspicious of that sort of man than, say, a fair type?"</p> + +<p>"Relic of the Armada, I suppose," I suggested. "Tell me all about the +man you saw."</p> + +<p>"I was coming along the roadside," Cumshaw began, "past one of the +vineyards, when I noticed a man working close at hand. I was just going +to pass by when it struck me that he was the only person about. I +thought that rather queer and I gave him a second look. Then I saw that +he wasn't digging, as I had thought at first, but that he was scratching +aimlessly at the ground. One of those queer feelings that seem +altogether unrelated to fact crept over me. Call it second sight or any +other fancy name you please, the fact remains that I suddenly knew—not +thought, mind you; I knew—that he did not want me to notice him and +that he was pretending to be one of the workmen, just so that I would +pass him by without more than a cursory glance. When I came to think it +over afterwards, I remembered that it struck me when first I saw him +that he was the only man I had seen in the vineyards for miles. Of +course I had that idea in my mind when I looked at him the second time. +That doesn't explain how I understood that I was the very man he did not +want to see. He had his head bent down naturally, his hat well drawn +over his face, and he went on scratching and scraping as if his very +life depended on the energy with which he worked. I didn't get more than +a passing glimpse of him, and that wasn't too good—you can't go over to +a man and pull off his hat just because he looks suspicious—but I'd +swear on a stack of Bibles that he's one of the men we'll have to deal +with."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," I said. "At any rate I'm not going to allow chance workers +in the fields to rob me of my night's rest."</p> + +<p>"No more am I," assented Cumshaw. "So you don't think there's any +likelihood——."</p> + +<p>"I don't think anything at all," I cut in. "I take proper precautions, +that's all."</p> + +<p>He made no comment on my unceremonious interruption, but the strange +half-smile he gave me showed that he realised in part at least how his +story had affected me. As a matter of fact I was more perturbed than I +cared to admit. I had been thinking things over all day, and it had just +occurred to me that, seeing we had heard nothing of them since Bryce's +death, it was quite possible that they were even now following up the +false clue that he had laid for them, and which one of them had got away +with the night of the burglary. If that were so, why had they come back +and killed Bryce? It was a curious enough situation, and the more I +thought about it the more I became convinced that I was right. Our +immunity so far was due solely to the fact that the others were well +occupied with the faked plan they had stolen on that memorable evening. +Now on top of that Albert Cumshaw must come with this circumstantial +story of his and upset all my deductions. The strange part of it was, +though my reason told me that he had been a victim of his own brilliant +imagination, part of my mind—that part that believed in second sight +and banshees and were-wolves, and stuff of that sort—told me that he +was not so very much wrong after all.</p> + +<p>"I'll get to sleep," he said, interrupting the train of my thoughts. +"I'll be fresh when my turn comes for guard."</p> + +<p>"Tell me," I said, for the matter had been puzzling me all night, "where +did you learn to light your pipe with red-hot coals?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that," he said with a laugh. "I saw you doing it earlier in the +evening, and I made up my mind that what you did I could do."</p> + +<p>"Then it must have burnt you."</p> + +<p>"Horribly," he said with a grimace. "Good-night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IIIb" id="Chapter_IIIb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> III.</h2> + +<h3>THE PROMISED LAND.</h3> + + +<p>"This," I remarked, "is the sort of country Adam Lindsay Gordon would +have loved. No man but he could do justice to it."</p> + +<p>"We've been out seven days," said Cumshaw, "we've travelled God knows +how many miles, we've climbed up a Hades of a lot of mountains, and I +don't think there's a blind creek for twenty miles that we haven't +followed to the end and back again, and at the end of it all we're no +nearer the Valley than we were when we started. Gordon might have made +an epic out of it, but I'm hanged if I'm poet enough to appreciate the +country or philosopher enough to ignore the sheer physical discomforts +of the journey."</p> + +<p>"If you'd been through the things I've been through," I asserted, "if +you'd been in New Guinea when there was a gold-strike on and had to +climb hundreds of feet up a straight cliff to get to the fields, hanging +on all the time to creepers as thick as your wrist, you'd think this was +just Paradise. If you'd been with me in the sweltering Solomon Island +jungle, where every breath you took made the perspiration stand out on +your forehead in big beads, or up in the Klondyke when it was fifty +below and a man's own breath turned into ice about his mouth, you'd know +what life really meant. Here you're in the Garden of Victoria; you see +sights that knock some of the beauty spots of the world into a cocked +hat, and all you can do is growl at the country. You can't expect to go +up and down the mountain side in a lift or anything of the sort."</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for you to talk like that," he objected. "You're +used to this kind of life; we're not. That makes all the difference."</p> + +<p>"So it seems," I said. "But I haven't the slightest intention of giving +in yet. As a matter of fact I rather think we've been a little too sure +that we were on the right track. We haven't been as careful as we might. +We've gone along blindly."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Just this. We've been so infernally confident that we only had to find +a clump of wattle and a lone tree, and we were there. Now that lone tree +must be somewhere on the east side of the valley, and, despite the fact +that it's on high ground, it's so hidden that we wouldn't see it until +we were almost on top of it. It might be perfectly visible from inside +the valley, and at the same time be hidden from the outside by another +hill. As for the wattle, has it ever struck you that wattle only begins +to spring into bloom about the end of August? It's almost April now, and +you wouldn't find anything but just a mass of green bushes."</p> + +<p>"If there was a valley, which same I'm beginning to doubt," Cumshaw said +doggedly, "we'd have found it before this."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what Miss Drummond is cooking for our tea," I remarked +irrelevantly, "but it smells good."</p> + +<p>"If you think you can put me off that way," Cumshaw said, "you're mighty +mistaken. I'm tired of it all, and for two pins——"</p> + +<p>"You know very well," I cut in, "that I haven't one pin, let alone two."</p> + +<p>"You apparently don't understand that I'm perfectly serious."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. I'm serious too. I'm quite satisfied that we haven't been +going about things in the right way. We've made mistakes, and it's up to +us to find out what those mistakes are and go over the ground again."</p> + +<p>"I'll give it another week," said Cumshaw, "and if we haven't found +anything by then we might as well retire, for you can bet your sweet +life we never will."</p> + +<p>I didn't answer him immediately. I was sprawling on the grass, on my +back, with my eyes turned to the west, and something in the color of the +sky surrounding the setting sun caught and held my attention. Curiously +enough it made me think of Gordon and "The Sick Stockrider"—it must +have been floating through my mind when I began to talk—and it needed +very little effort of imagination to see—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The deep blue skies wax dusky and the tall green trees grow dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the very sun's face weave their pall,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>but there were no blue skies or green trees. The heavens were just a +dull slate-grey with streaks of smoke-colored cloud scurrying across +from the west, and the trees that might have been green in a better +light were black and gaunt, like weird spectres which had taken on wild +shapes and unorthodox hues. There was just the slightest suggestion of +chill in the atmosphere, and that, combined with the scurrying clouds, +made me study the sky with growing anxiety.</p> + +<p>"If that's not a storm brewing," I said, pointing skywards, "I'm +anything you like to call me."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw cocked one eye in the direction indicated. "It does look like +it," he said lazily, after a prolonged study of the sky.</p> + +<p>I looked him up and down as best I could. One can't survey a man too +well when lying on one's back; but something in the glance and more that +I gave him, struck him as being so odd that he sat up and stared at me. +I made no movement.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he queried at length.</p> + +<p>"It's just the other way round," I said in my most aggravating tone.</p> + +<p>He looked at the sky again at that, and then turned his dark eyes on me. +"I can see it's going to be a fine old storm," he said, "but I don't +understand why you're worrying about it."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," I said a trifle untruthfully. I was worrying, but not as much +as he seemed to think. Ordinarily I would have told him just what I +fancied was wrong, but this time I didn't fancy anything. For all I +could say to the contrary there was just an ordinary April storm brewing +over across the hills, and presently the thunder would begin, and then +the lightning, and after that the rain; still I felt like a man who is +on the verge of a great discovery, on the brink of finding that +something that means all the difference in the world between success and +failure. Even now when I come to consider calmly the emotions of that +hour I cannot say that what I have just written down is a true +description of my feelings and thoughts. What happened later that same +night has had its effect on my memory and has mixed itself inextricably +with my earlier recollections. All this about my fancying that the storm +meant more than a storm usually means may be due to the fact that, but +for it, the momentous event itself would never have occurred.</p> + +<p>I do know that I was a little doubtful about the security of the +improvised tent that sheltered Moira, and I think I must have showed a +little of that anxiety in my face. That perhaps was what struck Cumshaw +and led him to make the remark that he did.</p> + +<p>Presently Moira called us to tea, and we hauled ourselves up from the +grass and went over to her. The fire was burning up brightly and threw +the tent and the surrounding trees into bold relief. It made the sky +look even darker and more threatening than before. The scurrying clouds +had all passed away by now, but in their train came thicker and heavier +ones, big black things that rolled slowly across the evening sky with +the heavy implacability of Fate. They moved like the advancing vanguard +of a wild army of infamy, and soon had shut out altogether the dying +light of day and the growing radiance of the silver stars. The sudden +chill of thirty minutes previously had passed like a swift breath of +wind into the limbo of lost and forgotten things, and in its place had +grown a deadly hot oppressiveness that somehow reminded me of the +sweltering dampness of those Gaudalcanar forests I had so recently +described to Cumshaw. It filled us with something of its own torpor, so +much so that we ate languidly, and when we spoke at all we spoke in +monosyllables.</p> + +<p>The storm broke almost without warning. There was just one low +premonitory growl of thunder, the sky was split by a yellow sword of +lightning, and then the rain came pouring down in the way that can be +best described as the bursting of the flood-gates of heaven. At that our +torpor vanished and we made an unceremonious rush for the poor shelter +afforded by the tent, bringing with us what was left of our meal. The +tent had not been constructed with a view to holding more than one; at +its poor best it was but a rough shelter from the night dew. We had +never intended it to keep out the rain; it had not entered our heads as +even a remote possibility. I, perhaps, as the only one of the three who +had had any practical experience of out-door life, should have kept just +such a chance in mind. The fact remains that I overlooked it, and I +can't say that then or at any other time was I sorry for my +miscalculation.</p> + +<p>I had lived so long in the tropics that the rain that came seemed to me +the veriest drizzle, but the others had their own opinion, as I learnt +the moment I said what I thought. Cumshaw remarked that it was the devil +of a downpour, and Moira expressed her idea in less forcible though more +polite terms. It was no use my saying that if I were in Port Moresby or +Samarai the rain would have gone through the thin fabric of the tent +like a rifle bullet through butter-cloth. They pointed out with equal +truth that the present rain was dribbling through even as it was, and +that a quarter of an hour more would see us saturated.</p> + +<p>Whether we would or not must remain a mystery. No doubt we would have +found out sooner or later had it not come on to blow. The thunder had +ceased and the lightning flashed less frequently, now that the rain had +set in, but the wind began to rise, and almost on the last clap of +thunder I felt the wall of the tent shiver under the impact of the +blast. It occurred to me in one of those flashes of memory that we +sometimes have in moments of tension that we had not troubled about +running up guy-ropes, and there was nothing now to hold the tent if the +wind caught it squarely. Scarcely had the thought formed in my mind than +an extra fierce blast caught the light fabric, shook it as a +Newfoundland dog would shake a small terrier it had picked up in its +mouth, and then, before we knew what had happened, the wind had whirled +the tent away like a child's balloon, leaving us standing bareheaded, +shivering and exposed to all the force of the elements. I left Moira +with Cumshaw and groped about in the darkness, hoping to find our +missing tent, but I might as well have been hunting for the proverbial +needle in a bundle of hay for all the chance I had. I merely got wet +through, so much so that I changed by mind completely about the force of +Victorian storms, and when at last I found my way back to the others I +was sopping from the sole of my boots to the top of the woe-begone hat I +had hurriedly thrust on my head. As matters stood I could not get any +wetter, and I supposed that Cumshaw was in much the same state. +Nevertheless there was Moira to think of, and the sooner we got to +shelter of some sort, a cave on the hillside or even a tolerably thick +bush, the better it was going to be for all of us. I shouted this to +Cumshaw—it was very hard to hear now that the gale had risen and was +blowing everything to ribbons—and he understood me only after a couple +of attempts. So I took Moira by one chill wet hand and Cumshaw took the +other, and thus in the darkness and the steady soaking rain began our +hunt for shelter of some sort.</p> + +<p>I haven't an idea how far we walked. We just kept on and on, and really +I think we did not notice the storm so much as if we had been standing +still. Most of the time our attention was too taken up with feeling our +way, for the ground was very slippery and more than once I almost lost +my footing, to give more than a passing thought to personal discomfort. +It was too dark to see more than an inch or so in front of us, and even +then we saw nothing more than a black wall that constantly receded as we +advanced and yet was still as near as ever in the end. I don't think any +of us realised that we had drifted into a gully or a track of some sort +until I put out a tentative hand and felt a wall of bushes dead in front +of me. I pulled back with a jerk, but my sudden movement startled the +others, and in the flurry of the moment they did the very thing I had +been trying to avoid. They slipped and I went with them. I had sense +enough to release Moira's hand the moment I felt the drag of her body, +and then, before I quite knew what had happened. I found I was whirling +along in the mud, cavorting down the side of something that looked, or +felt—for I couldn't see, as I've already stated—very much like the +edge of a precipice. I brought up, just when I was beginning to wonder +how much further I had to fall, by colliding with something that felt +very like a hedge of brambles. There I lay in the soaking rain, with the +mud plastered thickly on my face, and every bit of breath knocked out of +my body.</p> + +<p>Somehow it seemed quieter down here. The wind still whistled and roared, +but it was some feet or more above my head and it touched me not. +Presently I began to sit up and wonder where I was and what had happened +and what had become of the others. I felt very stiff and wet and dirty, +and my right knee ached more than I liked. I was just on the point of +staggering to my feet and feeling my way to leveller ground, when quite +close to me I heard something very like a moan. I dropped on my knees at +that and put out a tremulous hand. My fingers touched something soft and +cold, and then I realised that it was a human face—Moira's, judging by +the tangle of hair. I put my hand under the head and raised it up. A +heavy mass of loose hair fell damply about my arm, and I knew then that +it was my sweetheart I held. She stirred a little and moaned again. I +was in a quandary. Clearly something must be done, but how or what I +could no more say that I could fly. The night and the storm had +swallowed Cumshaw up for the time being, but, beyond wondering vaguely +what had become of him, I never gave him a thought. All my life long I'd +been too used to men taking care of themselves to worry myself much +about my missing colleague. But Moira's case was insistent and called +for immediate attention. If there had been any shelter handy, even the +rudest of bark humpies, I would have known what to do, and, what is +more, I would have done it on the instant. Obviously the only course I +could take was to crawl in under the ledge or precipice, or whatever it +was, down which we had fallen and trust to the overhang—if there was +any—and the few bushes that I had crashed through as I spun down, to +keep the worst of the rain off us.</p> + +<p>Accordingly I rose to my feet and lifted Moira up in my arms. She was a +greater weight than I had thought, and that and my own condition caused +me to walk with the uneven steps of a drunken man. At last I found some +sort of recess in the side of the slope—I came across it more by +accident than of set purpose—and there I crouched with Moira between me +and the wall. The rain whirled in on me, and, if possible, I got a +trifle wetter than before, but I had the satisfaction of knowing that my +body kept both the rain and the wind away from her. It was a tedious +enough job, holding the unconscious girl in my arms, and more than once +I felt like dropping her, only that I recollected in time that I was +crouching ankle deep in mud. I am stronger than the average, and I have +had my body trained in hard schools, but even that has not made a +Hercules of me. I was more than glad when she opened her eyes, or, +rather, when she moved a little in my arms and then spoke.</p> + +<p>She was not hurt much, she said in answer to my question, but she felt +stiff in every limb, and the dampness seemed to have soaked through to +her very bones. How was I, and what had happened?</p> + +<p>I answered the two questions in almost the same breath. Brevity is not +only the soul of wit, but it is the sole method of carrying on a +conversation when both parties are wet and shivering.</p> + +<p>"Have you any idea where we are?" Moira asked.</p> + +<p>I shook my head and then, remembering that my answer was unintelligible +in the darkness, I said, "I haven't. We fell over a cliff or a +precipice, and that's all I can say about it."</p> + +<p>"Why," she said, "you're shivering!" And she put out her hand to touch +me. Her fingers came to rest on my arm, and I could feel her stiffen in +the dark.</p> + +<p>"Jim, why did you do it?" she demanded, with yet a curious softness in +her voice.</p> + +<p>"Do what?" I fenced.</p> + +<p>"As if I don't know that you're in your shirt sleeves. That's your coat +that's wrapped round me."</p> + +<p>"What if it is?"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have done it. You'll catch your death of cold."</p> + +<p>"Much chance there is of that," I grunted.</p> + +<p>She was silent for a time, and then I felt her arms about me, and I +realised that she was trying to place my coat about my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If that's what you're after," I said, "I'll put it on. But you'll catch +cold yourself."</p> + +<p>She made no direct answer, but I heard something that sounded curiously +like a sob.</p> + +<p>Presently she moved up closer to me and a soft voice whispered in my +ear, "Jim, I'll be warmer if you'll let me snuggle up to you. It's a +long time since last ... I didn't deserve it then."</p> + +<p>I reached out in the darkness and drew her towards me. With her tired +head resting on my shoulder we waited for the dawn.</p> + +<p>It was a long time coming, how long I cannot say, for in my then state +of nervous tension the hours dragged with the awful unendingness of +eternity. At last the black wall of night cracked into streaks of grey, +looking for all the world like feeble sun-rays filtering through the +chinks in the roof of a deserted house. Moira stirred a little, and I +saw in one hasty glance that her wet hair was streaming about her face +and her saturated dress was caked with black mud.</p> + +<p>I held her off at arm's length and looked her over quizzically. Then we +each laughed outright at the sight the other presented.</p> + +<p>"You're wet through, Moira," I said, "and you look as if you've been +having a mud-bath. All the same you're a brick to have stood it all the +way you have."</p> + +<p>"I'm not and I haven't," she said cryptically, and silenced my further +objections with a kiss.</p> + +<p>When I looked out on the world again it was to see that the day had +already broken, and a dirty and bedraggled Albert Cumshaw was making his +way towards us with slow and painful steps.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_IVb" id="Chapter_IVb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> IV.</h2> + +<h3>WE ENTER THE VALLEY.</h3> + + +<p>I cannot explain why just at that instant my heart gave a thump. There +was nothing for it to thump about. Cumshaw, toiling up the slope, for +all his woe-begone look, was the most ordinary figure imaginable, and +there was nothing in the landscape to excite or rivet attention. It was +a white dawn, and, though the rain had ceased long before, everything +was still dull and grey. In the hollows the mist lingered and hung +between us and the further view like a great white curtain. That and the +advancing Albert Cumshaw completed the picture, a picture that was +neither interesting nor sensational. Yet at the sight, as I've already +stated, my heart jumped queerly and unaccountably. Do coming events +really ever cast their shadows before them? Are we sometimes granted +visions of "the things beyond the dome?" I do not know, and, even if I +did, I would not care to express a definite opinion in my own case. I +have seen things dangerously like coincidences happen so often in my own +experience that I have grown chary of either affirming or denying that +there is something more than chance at the bottom of it all. Still the +fact remains that twice within twenty-four hours the same queer feeling +crept over me, and on each occasion the course of events proved that it +was premonition. But that is running a shade ahead of the story.</p> + +<p>I ran down the slope to meet Cumshaw, and the first thing I noticed was +that there was a great livid bruise across his right temple.</p> + +<p>"You've got a nasty knock there on your forehead," I greeted him, in the +casual self-contained fashion of the men who live in the open.</p> + +<p>He answered me with one of those laughs that are nothing more than +almost soundless chuckles.</p> + +<p>"Is it hurting?" I enquired with a trace of anxiety in my voice.</p> + +<p>"Hurting, hell!" he said impolitely. "Of course it is."</p> + +<p>"How did you do it? Was it an accident?"</p> + +<p>"I don't look as if I did it just for amusement, do I?" he snarled.</p> + +<p>"It hasn't improved your temper, my lad," I said under my breath. Aloud +I remarked: "We're all in much the same boat. Miss Drummond's had a +stiff time of it, and I've got all my bruises where you can't see them, +but I can assure you that they hurt all the same."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Moira a shadow passed over his face. Frankly I could +not quite understand his attitude towards her. At first I was rather of +the opinion that he was in love with her, but latterly I hadn't been so +sure, for he had had the decency to suppress his feelings once he found +how the land lay. The mere mention of her name calmed him down +wonderfully. He even seemed a little ashamed of his outbursts of temper.</p> + +<p>"I might have remembered that I wasn't the only one in the party," he +said. "But then I came a fearful cropper, and on top of it I've been out +in the rain all night."</p> + +<p>"We were a little luckier." I told him. "We found an overhang and that +kept off most of the rain. All the same I wouldn't mind a chance of +drying myself."</p> + +<p>"And we're likely to get that," he said with some asperity. "All our +goods are God knows how many miles behind. I've got a box of matches in +my pocket, but they're just about as useful here as they would be at the +bottom of the sea."</p> + +<p>"Come now," I said, "it's not as bad as all that. We've got a lady to +take care of, and we've got to shuffle our brains about a bit and see +what we can do. We'll never get anywhere by standing still railing at +our fate."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're in charge, Carstairs," he told me. "It's up to you."</p> + +<p>"It is," I admitted, "and as the first step towards success I might +point out to you that the mist is lifting."</p> + +<p>He wheeled round at that with greater agility than I expected, seeing +that by his own account he was still feeling pretty dicky. The mist was +lifting in truth, and yellow spears of sunlight were thrusting +themselves through like hat pins run through cloth.</p> + +<p>"It'll be the better part of half an hour before the place's clear," he +asserted, with one eye cocked at the sky and the other watching me.</p> + +<p>"In the meanwhile we'd better go back to Miss Drummond and set her mind +at rest," I suggested.</p> + +<p>He trudged along at my elbow with a step that lacked its usual buoyancy, +but the sidelong glances I stole at him every now and then showed me +that he was fast recovering his spirits. The bruise on his forehead, +seen now close at hand and in a better light, was not the fearsome thing +I had at first taken it to be. True, it lent him an air of general +disrepute, but then none of us were quite fit for the drawing-room. Even +Moira, sheltered as she had been, showed very much the worse for wear. +She greeted Cumshaw with a cheery smile, the bravest thing about her I +thought, and a ready question as to his adventures. But he could tell +her little more than that he had gone over the edge with us and rolled +away until he brought up against the stone or whatever it was that had +bruised his face so nicely. Our own story, what there was of it, was +soon told, and a few glances about us showed that in the murk of the +night and rain we had missed our footing and shot off the track a dozen +feet or so to the level ground below. Above us waved the tall shapes of +kingly gums, and below us lay vast spaces of bracken. Beyond that we +could form little idea as to our position, though the mist was slowly +drifting away now.</p> + +<p>"The best thing to do, I suppose," I remarked, "is to get back to last +night's camping-place and see what we can find of the stores. Of course +we shouldn't have left them, but it's no use being wise after the event. +We've to go back as quick as we can now, and maybe we can dig up +something warm. That's supposing that everything isn't too wet to be +used."</p> + +<p>"As I remarked before, it's up to you," Cumshaw threw at me. "Lead on, +Carstairs."</p> + +<p>"If you can show me any way back to the main track, I'll lead on with +pleasure," I told him. "There's none visible that I can see, and I don't +fancy that my eyes are over dull."</p> + +<p>Cumshaw said something under his breath, but before I could drop on him +for it Moira interposed. "How about walking round at the foot of this +ridge and seeing where it'll lead us to?" she suggested.</p> + +<p>"That's as fine a plan as any," I answered. "We'll try it."</p> + +<p>We did. We sauntered along listlessly for the best part of an hour, and +then it struck me all of a sudden that we were rising rapidly.</p> + +<p>"We're on the wrong track," I said, stopping short. "We didn't come down +as steep a slope as this last night."</p> + +<p>"You're right there, Carstairs. We didn't," Cumshaw said, stopping short +and looking about him with a puzzled air.</p> + +<p>"Why not keep right on?" Moira advised. "It's just possible that we're +working back to the track."</p> + +<p>"We'll give it a chance," I said, after chewing the suggestion over in +silence for a few minutes. "We'll keep on for ten minutes or so, and if +it gets any worse we can always go back."</p> + +<p>The ground became rougher at every step and finally in despair I called +a halt. The sun was well up by this and the mist had cleared away from +the hills, though filmy vapors still lingered in what I knew must be the +hollows. In front was a causeway, strewn with boulders, and beyond that +what I took to be a sea of wattles. I could see no use in progressing +further in that direction, and I said so as succinctly as I could. +Cumshaw was inclined to argue, but the consensus of opinion was against +him. The outcome of it was that we decided to retrace our steps. Before +we did so I suggested looking about for something that would give us an +indication of our present position.</p> + +<p>I stumbled on it quite by accident. Another step further and I would +have fallen down the funnel-shaped opening that gaped at my feet. I drew +back just in time to save myself, and for the second time that morning +my heart gave a jump. To think that we had gone so close to missing it +altogether! The thing, so to speak, had lain at our feet all the time. I +turned about and searched the landscape for my companions. Moira was +visible in the near distance; the wattles had swallowed Cumshaw.</p> + +<p>"Cumshaw, Moira, I've found it!" I called at the top of my voice.</p> + +<p>Moira whipped round at the sound of my voice. I waved to her and she +came running towards me. A second later I saw Cumshaw come out of the +shadows, and I yelled at him with all the power of my lungs. I don't +know what he must have thought of the yelling, dancing, frantically +waving figure that caught his eye. He must have fancied for a moment +that I had gone mad. Then, in a flash, so he says, the truth dawned on +him, and he in his turn sprinted towards me, the one idea uppermost in +his mind being that the valley must have been found. At the same instant +my soul was singing "Eureka!" and Moira was weeping and laughing at the +same time.</p> + +<p>"Cumshaw," I cried, as he came within speaking distance, "if that's not +the funnel that your father and Bradby left the valley by you can call +me a goggle-eyed Chinaman."</p> + +<p>And then somehow we all seemed to be talking together.</p> + +<p>"That must be the valley down under the wattles."</p> + +<p>"I knew we'd find it."</p> + +<p>"It only shows that one should never give in."</p> + +<p>"If we hadn't fallen down that slope last night...."</p> + +<p>"If I hadn't kept going when you all wanted to turn back, you mean."</p> + +<p>"It's found now and that's the best part of it."</p> + +<p>I must confess that I lost my head just as the others did. I should have +known better, I suppose, than to go yelling out our discovery at the top +of my lungs, but knowing's one thing and doing's altogether different. +I've seen miners on the Lakekamu shouting themselves hoarse over even +less of a discovery, seasoned men who knew how and when to hold their +tongues. Could tyros like ourselves be blamed for what we did? I don't +think so.</p> + +<p>"That's the funnel right enough," Cumshaw said. "There can't possibly be +two of the same kind in the same district. I'm sure this is the one; +it's been described too often to me for there to be any mistake about +it. But what's puzzling me is the valley. There doesn't seem to be much +of one here. All I can see is wattles, wattles whichever way I look."</p> + +<p>"There's one way to settle it," I said in an aside to him, and I looked +at Moira.</p> + +<p>He gathered from my warning glance that I had something to say I didn't +want her to hear, so he shifted out of earshot with me.</p> + +<p>"There's things you don't want a girl to see," I explained as we walked +off; "but if this is the valley the skeletons of those two horses should +be down there somewhere," and I pointed over the edge of the funnel.</p> + +<p>"I'll go down," he said with alacrity. "I guess it's my go. It's time I +took some sort of a risk."</p> + +<p>"You surely don't expect there'll be anything wrong?" I queried.</p> + +<p>"I can't say," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Anyway, I +think you'd better get back to Miss Drummond. She's looking over this +way, and in a minute or so she'll be asking awkward questions, if you +don't go and tell her something."</p> + +<p>"All right," I agreed. "Look as slippy as you can, but be careful. An +injured man is always more or less of a nuisance, you know."</p> + +<p>He grinned cheerfully at that, and then, without another word, turned on +his heel and made off towards the funnel. I walked back to Moira.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do now?" she asked me suspiciously. "What's Mr. +Cumshaw after?"</p> + +<p>"He's going down through that funnel-shaped thing," I answered. "He +wants to see what's at the end of it."</p> + +<p>The golden-brown eyes regarded me thoughtfully for a space and then: +"Why didn't you go yourself instead of sending him?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It was his suggestion," I said defensively. "He seemed to think he had +a better right than anyone else, so I didn't argue with him about it. I +let him go."</p> + +<p>"We could all have gone," she hinted.</p> + +<p>"We could have," I agreed, "but we didn't."</p> + +<p>In the meantime Cumshaw had lowered himself carefully down into the +opening, felt about a bit with his feet, found a foothold, and then +swung easily down from projecting ledge to projecting ledge. He emerged +quite unexpectedly into a tangled mass of wattle. That puzzled him much, +as it had puzzled me a few minutes previously; the elder Cumshaw's tale +contained no mention of wattle save the golden barrier at the further +side of the valley. Yet here was wattle as far as the eye could reach. +It looked as if a generous scientist, like the man in H. G. Wells' "Food +of the Gods," had let loose some power capable of forcing on this +abnormal growth. The valley itself was in an undulating sea of +vegetation. Had it been early in September the place would have been a +vast expanse of golden glory, but as it was late March the dominant +color note was that of grey-green. Under the circumstances it was as +clear as daylight how the elder man had missed the place. It was buried +under the rank growth, and all definable features, as we learnt +later—everything that could be used as a leading mark—had disappeared +or been swamped by the wattles. The bushes were not so thick about the +lower entrance to the funnel as to impede Cumshaw's movements, and so he +began to look about him in the hope of locating the one thing that would +definitely identify the place. The horses had been shot close to the +wall of rock, and it was a practical certainty that some trace of their +bodies would be found in the vicinity. Ten minutes' close search brought +to light a pile of bones that might or might not be those of the missing +animals—Cumshaw had no knowledge of anatomical structure and so did not +feel quite clear on that point—but the remarkable feature about them in +his eyes was that they were all more or less blackened, and amongst them +he found a heap of lime-dust, which he took to be bones reduced to their +elemental form by the application of great heat. Still he felt justified +in regarding the identity of the place as being sufficiently +established, and without wasting any more time he returned the way he +had come.</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt about it," I agreed when I heard his tale. "This is +the valley right enough. I vote on going down there at once. The old hut +can't be far away, and it'll be somewhere for us to camp in and fix up +our clothes. And that reminds me that one of us'll have to go back for +our stores and extra clothes. There's no need for both of us to go; one +will do. However that can wait until we find the hut."</p> + +<p>"I'm not hungry," Moira said, "and I think my clothes are practically +dry. The sun's coming out now, and I don't see why we should feel any +the worse for last night's adventures if we only take reasonable care of +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"If that's the case," I remarked, "let us go down by all means."</p> + +<p>I sent Cumshaw down first, as he was the only one of us who was familiar +with the place, and then I handed Moira down to him. Or, rather, I +helped her down; Moira at the best of times is no light weight. For a +moment we stood blinking at the entrance to the funnel, and then Moira +caught my arm in her impulsive way and cried, "Come on, Jim! Let's enter +into Paradise!"</p> + +<p>I smiled at her quaintness and made to follow her, but Cumshaw +interposed quickly. "Not that way," he said. "This is the way." He +glanced at me as he spoke, and I realised that he was taking us by a +path that would lead us away from the mouldering bones.</p> + +<p>The ground was rough underfoot, and the matted cover of vegetation that +effectually hid stray boulders from view made it all the worse. In +places the wattle grew over our heads in a profusion that was almost +tropical, and more than once we would have lost our way had I not taken +our bearings at the start, and thus was able to guide the party by means +of my pocket-compass.</p> + +<p>"In your father's day there was a wood hereabouts," I said to Cumshaw +presently. "There doesn't seem to be one now."</p> + +<p>"There doesn't," he said. "Can you understand how practically the entire +physical features of the place have changed so much?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly I can't. But they apparently have, and that's about all we can +say. We'll just have to keep our eyes open and trust to luck."</p> + +<p>"Our luck seems to have held good so far," Moira said, turning to me +with high hope in her face.</p> + +<p>"Mind your footing," I said warningly. "You want to watch every inch of +the way. There's all sorts of rocks and boulders under this stuff."</p> + +<p>"I'll be careful," she smiled, and scarcely were the words out of her +mouth than her foot caught in something. She pitched forward on her face +before I could spring to her assistance. I lifted her up carefully, but +she seemed none the worse for her fall.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what it was that tripped me," she confided. "It wasn't a +boulder or anything of the sort. I think it was a log of wood, yet my +foot seemed to catch underneath it."</p> + +<p>I was on the point of offering a suggestion, but something held me +silent, and instead I dropped down on my knees and felt feverishly in +the undergrowth. Of course it was a silly thing to do—there might have +been snakes and all manner of noxious crawling things there—but I +didn't think of that at the time. I was too intent on solving the +riddle. My hand touched something.... I straightened up and faced the +others.</p> + +<p>"Moira and Cumshaw," I said. "I've found the hut. That's a piece of it +there." Bending down, I dragged to light a rough-hewn beam that possibly +had been the threshold plank. It was weather-worn, and in places the +fungus had grown thickly on it; but I could see for all that that it had +been warped and twisted and charred in the blaze of a fire. Three pairs +of eyes met across the plank, and three lips put the same idea into +words.</p> + +<p>"There's been a fire here," we said in chorus.</p> + +<p>"And that," I added on my own account, for the benefit of the others who +had not jumped to the same conclusion as I had, "and that explains +everything that's puzzled us since we entered the valley. There's been a +bush fire here at some period during the last twenty years. It destroyed +the hut, it burnt down the wood, and it made that pile of lime you +found, Cumshaw."</p> + +<p>"What pile was that?" Moira queried quickly. "I didn't see any."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Cumshaw passed a pile in the bushes as we came along," I said +off-handedly. "The heat must have rendered the stones down."</p> + +<p>She accepted my explanation at its face value.</p> + +<p>"No wonder the place remained hidden," I ran on. "If you'll look over +east, where there should be a lone tree, you won't find any. It's wattle +everywhere you look. The fire cleared out all the trees and forced the +wattle on in their place. If you came by here on any side but the one we +came by you'd take this to be just an ordinary hollow full of wattle."</p> + +<p>"You're talking nothing else but wattle," Cumshaw interrupted. "What has +the wattle to do with the fire anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you see?" I cried. "Without the fire there wouldn't have +been any wattle here. The seed'll lie dormant in the ground for years +sometimes; it takes great heat to germinate them. That's why wattle +always springs up in profusion after there's been a bush fire. The same +thing happens with grass, the coarser kinds, though to a lesser extent."</p> + +<p>"I see," he said gravely. "It means that we are back just where we +began."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't mean anything of the sort," I said quickly. "All this is in +our favor. We're better off than we were before."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how that is," he replied.</p> + +<p>"But it is," I persisted, "and I'll show you why when the time comes. +And now there's plenty to be done. One of us has to go back for the +provisions that we left behind last night, and the other's got to stop +here with Miss Drummond and run up a bit of a bark humpy that'll keep +off the wind and won't let the rain through. Now if you're as hungry as +I am you'll understand just how pressing the need of that food is. It's +you or I, Cumshaw. Which of us is to go?"</p> + +<p>"I'll toss you," Cumshaw offered.</p> + +<p>I nodded, and he drew a coin from out his pocket and spun it in the air.</p> + +<p>"Heads!" I called.</p> + +<p>We bent down over it. "It's tail," said Cumshaw. "I go back for the +food," I said.</p> + +<p>I straightened up and spoke seriously to the pair of them. "Cumshaw," I +said, "do as much as you can while I'm away, and keep one eye on the +horizon all the time. You must remember that there's always danger +about; the luck's been with us so far, but it may turn any minute, and +our rivals are just the sort of men who'd come on you suddenly and shoot +before you could say 'Jack Robinson.' And as for you, Moira, keep out of +harm's way and do what you can towards keeping a good lookout. I'm going +across to the other side, as I reckon that we must have travelled round +the valley last night."</p> + +<p>"You'll be careful, won't you, Jim, dear?" Moira whispered.</p> + +<p>"Aren't I always careful?" I said. "It's you that's got to watch out. +Now, one kiss, dear. I'll be back as soon as I can possibly manage it."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Five minutes later I had gained the further wall of the valley, and +found that, with the help of the bushes, it was the easiest thing +imaginable for an active man like myself to haul himself up over the +ridge and drop on the track which Abel Cumshaw and the late Mr. Bradby +had trodden so many years before. I took my bearings carefully, then +snapped up my pocket-compass and set off down the road with as jaunty a +swing as I was capable of. I had long got over my stiffness, and now +that the sun was shining brightly I began to feel more confident than +ever that all was going well. If it had not been for the terrible way in +which the dread purpose of our rivals had been brought home to us +already I would have felt absolutely at ease. As it was I did not let my +rosy anticipations of the future interfere at all with my sense of +caution.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_Vb" id="Chapter_Vb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> V.</h2> + +<h3>DIES IRAE.</h3> + + +<p>As a matter of strict fact the place was much further away than I had +anticipated. We must have wandered a considerable distance in the +confusion of the evening's storm and covered more ground than we had +thought. I had positioned the sun as I had left the valley and judged +the time to be about eleven o'clock; "that," I thought, "will bring me +back by two at the very latest." But really it was close on five, and +the shadows were already dropping down over the country-side before I +was ready to return. I found our little store of goods intact, though +most of them were rain-soaked, and as a measure of good fortune I +retrieved the tent whose sudden departure had been the primary cause of +our hurriedly shifting camp. There was a fair load in all, but when I +had made it up and rolled everything packwise in the tent and fastened +it on my shoulders with what odd bits of string I found handy, there +wasn't anything in it that would seriously try the strength of a +seasoned explorer like myself. Then, because the night was beginning to +draw in and I did not want to go stumbling through the valley in the +dark, I set off at my top pace. I don't claim to be anything wonderful +as far as walking is concerned, but if I were ever asked what I +considered my record I would point back to that very night. I forced +myself along, my whole being intent on reaching the valley before the +sun slipped down behind the hills. I think it was more will-power than +sheer physical strength that kept me moving. I was just a little anxious +about Moira too. Cumshaw was a fine chap and clever in his own way, +though he did have occasional spurts of temper; but he lacked my +woodcraft experience, and I wasn't sure but what he might go to pieces +if any prowlers pounced down on him unawares. Neither he nor Moira had +ever come up against anything that would teach them to act as quickly as +they could think, and, though they might work like niggers when they +were under someone else's orders, an emergency that threw them on their +own resources might find them seriously wanting.</p> + +<p>The shadows lengthened as I sped along, the tired yellow sun slipped +down behind the hills like a penny-into-the-slot machine, and the early +April twilight touched all inanimate objects with its own drab lack of +coloring. I had no fear of losing my way in the darkness—I had too much +locality sense for that—but the possibilities of my being ambushed +appeared too many to be pleasant. A hurrying man, who is also +heavily-laden, cannot pick his footsteps with the meticulous care that +he would like, and it seemed within the bounds of probability that some +strange listener might start out on my track and put an abrupt period to +my career of usefulness. I have an unqualified and not unreasonable +objection to being cut off in what is practically the flower of my +youth. I was afraid. I admit that quite frankly, and I have yet to find +the man who has not known fear whenever he drifted into a tight corner. +But fear is not the hall-mark of a coward; it is at worst a natural +impulse to seek safety and take precautions, and at its best it is the +intellectual penalty that a strong man pays for having a will-power that +will not permit him to scurry away from danger and earth himself like a +rabbit in its burrow.</p> + +<p>I reached the valley without incident, scrambled down the historic +slope, now as slippery as a child's mud-slide, and was half-way across +the open space before I received my first shock. Some queer sixth sense +pulled me up in mid-stride. I had heard nothing, I had seen nothing; but +for all that I knew that a strange and obtrusive presence was very close +to me. The New Guinea native can at times tell the presence of an enemy +simply by his sense of smell, and I suppose I've lived so long amongst +them that I have acquired something of this kind. Be this as it may, I +was aware of the other man's proximity long before my faculties went +into action and confirmed me in my belief.</p> + +<p>I slipped my shoulders out of the pack-strings and dropped it +noiselessly on the ground. At that precise instant I heard a stealthy +movement on my left hand. It was so dark that I could not see an inch in +front of my face, but a little eddy of the breeze brought me the merest +whiff of stale tobacco—the sort of smell that comes from a pipe that +has been put out before it has completely burnt away. It was that dead +scent that always seems to hang about the vicinity of a newly quenched +fire. I was so close that I caught the sound of the man's breathing. +With every second breath there came a barely perceptible wheeze, and in +an instant my mind flashed back to the night of the burglary in Bryce's +house and the man I had caught coming out of the library. I was so sure +of it that I wasted no further time in stalking him; no two men in the +world could have that same regular wheezing breath. It requires a neat +sense of distance to catch an invisible man round the throat when he and +everything else tangible and real is hidden under cover of Stygian +darkness; but this time I made the snatch of my life, and as luck would +have it, had him by the windpipe before he realised that there was +anyone within a quarter of a mile of him. I didn't give him a chance to +cry out—I had no idea how close his friends were, if he had any—but +just threw all my weight into my clutching hands and quietly but +inexorably choked the life out of him. In the struggle his hat fell off +and I released one hand and ran it through his hair. Up till then there +was a lingering suspicion at the back of my mind, that after all I might +have throttled Cumshaw by mistake, but the feel of that straight hair +completely burked the last of my doubts. There was no possible chance of +mistaking Cumshaw's curly crop for the strands I held in my free hand, +for he suddenly went limp under my hands, and when I fumbled for his +heart I could not feel it beating. At the time I felt rather cut up, and +considered that I had practically killed the man in cold blood; but +afterwards, when I came to reckon up the tally of disaster, I was sorry +that I had passed him out so peacefully. There were a lot of other +methods I might have used had I known in time. But then I didn't, and +that makes all the difference.</p> + +<p>Satisfied in my own mind that the stranger was out of action for good +and all, I rose to my feet and threaded my way back to where I had left +my pack. I slipped the strings over my shoulders and set off again in +the direction I hoped to find Moira and my companion. But scarcely had I +taken a dozen steps forward when the silence of the night was shattered +by the report of a revolver, and in an instant a perfect fusillade had +begun. I dropped all caution at that. Throwing the pack from off my +shoulders, I drew my revolver as I ran. I simply tore across the +intervening space like a red god of vengeance suddenly descended on a +planet of sin. The sound of the shots had maddened me beyond all belief, +and in my then mood I would have walked single-handed into a whole army. +Luckily for myself I had not gone far before I collided with a wattle +bush, and the scratches I received brought me back to a saner frame of +mind. I saw with an appalling clarity of vision that I was taking the +worst possible course. Cumshaw and Moira were being attacked—that was +beyond question—and my game was to come upon the attackers unawares and +either rout or put as many of them out of action as I could with the +weapons at my command.</p> + +<p>So when I moved off again I had slackened my pace down to a stealthy +cat-like tread that took me along with an incredible absence of noise. +As I moved forward I began to turn the configuration of the place over +in my mind and wonder to what practical use I could put the fine natural +cover of the bushes. As I could see none I put the matter out of my head +and devoted all my energies to coming to immediate grips with the men +who had murdered the eternal peace of the valley.</p> + +<p>Presently I caught sight of a little red flash from one of the +revolvers, but as I had no idea as to whose it was I held my hand and +commenced to circle round the fight. It must be remembered, in order to +gauge the seriousness of the situation, that the night was as black as +the ace of spades, and that the only guide I had was the occasional +flash from a revolver—a flash that might have come from either friend +or foe; I had nothing to tell me which. It was in this queer fashion +that I was progressing when the toe of my boot touched something soft +and alien. I slipped down by the side of it and ran my hand over it. It +was a man's body—the still warm body from which the pulsing life had +suddenly been hurled. With my experience of the other man I had handled +earlier in the night I felt for the hair, and, to my utter horror, I +clutched a crop of short, crisp curls. It was Albert Cumshaw beyond a +doubt. I did not waste a moment in useless sentimentality over the dead. +The truth flashed across my mind with the blinding clearness of +lightning. Moira was by herself, fighting like some heroic goddess +against those other bestial savages. I know it is the fashion to picture +men in such moments as going berserker, but I don't think in my case +that I have ever been so sanely clear-headed in my life. It was a +monstrous and incredible thing that this quiet little corner of the +quietest little State in Australia should be polluted by the presence of +the incarnate fiends that had murdered Bryce, that had killed Cumshaw, +and were even now seeking to send Moira to join them in the shades. A +cold, pitiless anger took possession of me, and I set about my work of +vengeance as calmly as if I were going rabbit-shooting. I knew now of a +surety that I could shoot at any man who came within range without fear +or favor.</p> + +<p>It was then I blessed my stars for the matted undergrowth and the wild +profusion of wattle. The one deadened the sound of my movements and the +other gave me all the cover I needed. The game was now fairly in my +hands, and if I lost it would be through no one's fault but my own. It +was quite evident on the face of it that the attacking force had no idea +that a third party was maneuvering outside the range of fire, and I +counted on that fact to assist me in my work. The one drawback at +present was that I had no notion which was friend and which was foe. The +shots seemed to come from all round the compass, and any one of them +might be Moira's. It was quite on the cards that she was moving round in +a circle, in the full knowledge that every time she fired she shot at an +enemy, and again it was just as likely that she knew nothing at all +about Cumshaw's death. Clearly it was a situation that called for an +immense amount of care on my part.</p> + +<p>I had no time to waste puzzling the matter out; whatever I did had to be +done as quickly as possible, for I had no guarantee that the one-sided +warfare might not terminate fatally at any moment. One of the attackers +was just as likely to hit Moira as she was to hit him. I had slipped up +the catch of my revolver long before this, and was carrying it in such a +fashion that it could be fired instantly. I felt ready for any +emergency, and the contingency that presently arose found me well +prepared. There was a stealthy rush through the undergrowth, and a man +backed hastily in my direction. I couldn't see him, but I knew that it +was a man by the sound of the footsteps. There is always a perceptible +difference between the footsteps of a man and a woman, but it requires a +trained ear to pick it out. I slipped down into cover as he rushed back, +and, judging more by sound than sight, I fired as he passed me. He came +down heavily amidst a crash of breaking branches and the smashing of +twigs. "I seem to be the only sure-footed man about to-night," I thought +as the fellow thudded to the ground. At that precise moment, as if to +give the lie direct to me, a deafening report sounded right in my ear, a +pain as of a red-hot needle stabbed through my right shoulder, and I +pitched forward on my face. Even as my nose ploughed through the soft +soil it occurred to me to wonder if I had received a shot intended for +the other man, or if he was not as dead as I had fancied and signalised +his escape by shooting me in his turn. I was more scared than hurt, and +I quickly picked myself up and clapped an anxious hand to my throbbing +shoulder. The ball, by the feel of it, had done nothing worse than skim +through the fleshy part of my arm, and I was in no wise incapacitated. I +thanked my lucky stars that I was whole and entire, save for a spoonful +or so of unwanted blood, for I rather guessed that I had heavy work +ahead of me before I went to sleep that night.</p> + +<p>Just as my mind was clearing again I became aware that someone was +striking matches. I distinctly heard the scrape of one along the top of +the box, and I fancied I saw a tiny phosphorescent glow such as a match +makes when it misfires, but in that I may have been mistaken. As I +watched for another flash it dawned on me that the artillery had ceased +fire, and, for aught I knew to the contrary, I was probably the last +bird topped off that night. Therefore the person with the matches could +only be one of the victorious side, and was just as obviously counting +up the casualties.</p> + +<p>There came another little interlude of scraping, a match spluttered +undecidedly for a moment and then glowed brightly. After the Stygian +darkness the light came as a queer physical shock, and for the space of +a heart-beat I blinked like an owl in broad daylight. I think the other +person must have been just as much dazzled as I was, for the light died +out and the glowing tip of the match fell to the ground without a +movement from either of us. But it was followed almost instantly by +another match, less damp than its fellow, for it splashed into light +right away. And there in the little circle of radiance I caught sight of +the one face on earth that I ever wished to see again.</p> + +<p>"Moira!" I gasped and glided to her side.</p> + +<p>She dropped the match in the surprise of the moment, and I heard her +breath come and go before she answered, "You, Jim! Oh, I'm so glad! I +thought perhaps...."</p> + +<p>"They didn't," I said grimly, cutting across her thoughts. "It was the +other way about."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Cumshaw, Jim? Have you seen him anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said truthfully enough. I hadn't seen him; it had been too dark, +and I dared not strike a match.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm afraid he's been shot. We got separated in the darkness, and I +don't know what happened to him."</p> + +<p>"How did you get separated?" I queried quickly.</p> + +<p>"We were making for the cave and I lost him in the dark. After that they +started firing, and I just fired back, more to keep up my courage than +anything."</p> + +<p>"But where on earth did you get the revolver? You hadn't one of your +own."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I had, Jim. I brought it with me, and I didn't say anything +because I thought you might laugh or else be angry with me."</p> + +<p>"You've certainly shown that you know how to use it," I said dryly.</p> + +<p>Something in my voice must have told her what had happened. "What do you +mean?" she asked in a frightened tone. "Did I shoot anyone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said slowly. "You pinked me. Right in the shoulder. It's only a +flesh-wound; nothing to worry about."</p> + +<p>"I've hurt you and I didn't mean to," she wailed.</p> + +<p>I reached out and seized her by the shoulders. "Look here, Moira," I +said with a semblance of sternness in my voice, "you've done a man's +work to-night and it's making you hysterical. Don't let it. Pull +yourself together, for heaven's sake if not for mine."</p> + +<p>I think it was just that last bit that brought her round. "I'm sorry, +Jim," she said, though what there was to be sorry about was more than I +could say.</p> + +<p>"And now, Moira," I ran on before she had time to say anything more, +"the sooner we finish that interrupted journey to the cave the better. +It's not as good as the hut would be if it was still standing, but it +gives us shelter, and that's the main thing. Also we can light a fire +and sleep the night in peace, now that the gang seems to have been +rubbed out for good."</p> + +<p>She made no answer, so I took her arm, and thus we commenced our walk +across the valley. I found the pack without any trouble, though my heart +was in my mouth for fear that we would trip over poor Cumshaw's body. +But the luck was with me that night, though it hadn't been with him, and +I reached the pack and hoisted it on my shoulders without either of us +striking any of the victims of the fight. The sting of the wound in my +shoulder made the pack an uncomfortable burden, but I bore it as best I +could, for I was afraid that Moira would notice me if I kept wriggling +it into an easier position. So I fought the pain all the way to the +cave, which we reached in something under five minutes. Moira did not +speak a word all the way, and somehow I hadn't the heart to break the +news of Cumshaw's death to her. It had to be done sooner or later, I +knew, but I was inclined to put it off as long as possible.</p> + +<p>Once in the cave I built a little fire of chips and dry bracken that had +somehow escaped the rain. That done I turned with a clear conscience to +the task of making tea. Moira, however, had forestalled me; the billy +was already full, and she but awaited me to adjust the tripod of sticks +that held it in its place over the fire. It was while I was bending over +doing this that she must have noticed the bloodstains on my sleeve. At +any rate, when I straightened up, she looked at me with accusation in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me before that it was as bad as that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Because it isn't," I answered with cheerful paradox. But she would have +none of my jesting, and if I hadn't allowed her to wash and bind it up +right away I'm afraid I wouldn't have got any tea that night. When she +finished she placed her hands upon my shoulders and kissed me full on +the lips.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said brokenly, "you would die for me, I know, and yet I +so little deserve your love."</p> + +<p>I had tact enough to suppress the banality that was trembling on my +lips.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I wonder what could have happened to Mr. Cumshaw?" she remarked about +an hour later. "You'd have thought he'd have been here long ago if he +was all right."</p> + +<p>"Maybe," I said, bending my head over the fire so she would not see my +tell-tale face, "maybe he's not satisfied that this is our party."</p> + +<p>There was an interval of silence and, though I did not look up, I knew +that she was regarding me steadfastly. I could feel her eyes boring into +my head like twin gimlets.</p> + +<p>"Jim," she said suddenly and sharply, "what are you hiding from me? What +has happened to Mr. Cumshaw? I know something has gone wrong by the way +you're acting."</p> + +<p>I raised my eyes to meet hers; it was impossible to hide it any longer. +"The very worst that could happen," I said frozenly, and I dropped my +head once more.</p> + +<p>When I looked up again she was crying very softly to herself. I could +understand her sorrow, and for once her regard for the man caused me no +stab of pain; one cannot be jealous of the dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIb" id="Chapter_VIb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE SOLUTION.</h3> + + +<p>The grey light of the early dawn found me wide awake and alert. I felt +much fatigued after my exertions of the previous night, and would dearly +have liked to have slept an hour or so longer, but there was that to be +done which would admit of no delay. Further out in the Valley lay three +dead men, and I felt I must get them out of sight before Moira awoke. +Accordingly I scribbled a short note of explanation on a leaf torn from +my pocket-book, placed it in a conspicuous position, and, taking with me +the light spade we had brought with us, I slipped noiselessly out of the +cave. I found the bodies of our two enemies without any trouble, but, to +my great surprise, there was no trace of Cumshaw. He had disappeared as +utterly as if the earth had opened up and swallowed him. True, there +were broken branches and snapped twigs galore, but of signs that would +show me where the body had been taken or what had happened after I had +left, there was absolutely none. For the moment I wondered if it had all +been but a vivid dream, but the sight of the torn and scarred ground and +the memory of the other two bodies told me that it was only too real. +Obviously then the corpse had been moved, but where or by whom I could +not say.</p> + +<p>I spent the next half-hour in scouring the valley from end to end, yet +when I had finished I was compelled to admit that I was no nearer to a +solution than before. All the time, of course, there was a perfectly +simple explanation staring me in the face, but it was so infernally +obvious that I missed it.</p> + +<p>As my search had not led me any further forward, I shut the matter out +of my mind for the present and turned to the less engrossing though +certainly more pressing task of burying the bodies that remained. The +spot I chose for the grave seemed rather familiar to me, but for the +moment I could not say just what it brought to my mind. I pegged away +with the spade, and had already dug a fair-sized hole when, +unexpectedly, the further side of the grave caved in. I swore under my +breath at this brilliant result of my efforts, and, with the intention +of clearing away the rubble, thrust my spade deep into the loose earth. +It met with a solid obstruction, something that seemed to me like the +root of a tree, or——At that I stopped dead. Could it be possible that +I had struck the foundation of the hut?</p> + +<p>The morning we entered the valley Moira had tripped over one of the +loose logs that had once been part of the building, and at the time I +had attached peculiar significance to the discovery; but now it appeared +that I had actually gone one better. Without more ado I made the dirt +fly, and in less time than it takes to tell I had shot away the covering +earth and brought to light the object that had at first drawn my +attention. I saw then, with a gasp of relief, that it was indeed the +eastern foundation of the hut that I had unearthed. Whoever had built +the place had built well, for the thick cross-piece still remained +tightly nailed to the stout posts that had supported the foundation. The +fire that had swept the neighbourhood had somehow failed to consume it, +though subsequent developments had buried it under piles of bracken and +dead brushwood. It was an amazing discovery, and under the circumstances +the luckiest one imaginable. At the very least it enabled me to place +one of the fixed points that were vital to the discovery of the plunder. +At the same time it showed me how I might be able, with a little extra +luck, to locate the sight of the burnt tree.</p> + +<p>I went on with my digging.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later I finished my self-imposed task, swung the spade over +my shoulder, and prepared to return to the cave. I could see Moira in +the distance moving towards me, and I guessed that my prolonged absence +had made her feel somewhat uneasy.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been all the time, Jim?" was her greeting. "I was just +beginning to fear that something had happened to you."</p> + +<p>"Something has," I answered, "but not in the way you mean. I've located +the exact position of the hut. That piece of wood you tripped over must +have been only a log that escaped being fully consumed. We're well on +the way towards finding the treasure now."</p> + +<p>She eyed me keenly before she spoke again, and I knew what she was going +to ask me almost before she put her thoughts into words.</p> + +<p>"Was that all you went to do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No," I said, "I came out mainly to bury the dead."</p> + +<p>She gave a little shudder at that, but her voice was steady enough as +she said, "And you did? All of them?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "Not him," I said ungrammatically.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she demanded, with Heaven knows what idea at the back of the +question.</p> + +<p>"Because," I said distinctly, "because he wasn't there."</p> + +<p>"Jim, whatever do you mean?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I can't say any more than I've just said," I told her. "When I went to +look I found he wasn't where I'd left him last night, and, though I +searched the valley from end to end, I couldn't find sign or sight of +him."</p> + +<p>"It's impossible," she asserted. "You can't make a dead man fade into +thin air like that. If he's not in the valley, he's been taken out of +it."</p> + +<p>"And who's taken him out?" I countered. "There's only two ways out. +Nobody's passed us during the night, and anyone that went out through +the wattles would leave a trail like an elephant."</p> + +<p>"That's true enough," she admitted crestfallenly. And then she turned on +me swiftly. "Jim," she cried, "it's possible.... He might...."</p> + +<p>The idea jumped into my mind at almost the same moment, but it seemed +too preposterous for belief.</p> + +<p>"No," I interrupted. "It isn't. He couldn't. Moira, I tell you he was as +dead as a door-nail when I reached him."</p> + +<p>She made a little gesture of despair as she realised to the full the +bitter futility of attempting to solve the puzzle, yet I had a feeling +that she had not quite given up hope. She did not make any further +remark on the way back to the cave, and she certainly wasn't as much +thrilled by my discovery of the ruins of the hut as I had expected her +to be. I let her be; it's never safe to divert the current of a woman's +thoughts.</p> + +<p>I stepped into the cave ahead of her, and no sooner had I passed from +the light outside into the interior darkness than a crisp voice snapped +at me.</p> + +<p>"Hands up!" it said tersely.</p> + +<p>I shot my hands into the air more as a measure of precaution than +anything else, for I recognised the voice—the voice that I thought had +been silenced for ever.</p> + +<p>"Cumshaw!" I ejaculated.</p> + +<p>I could not see him since he was lurking right in the interior shadows, +but some electric quality in the air convinced me that his astonishment +was as great as mine. Nevertheless he answered me in tones that were as +calm as could be.</p> + +<p>"So it's yourself, Carstairs," he said. "I'll have to apologise for +being a little previous with you, but you must remember that you are +standing in your own light and I can only see your outline. And——Ah! +here is Miss Drummond too."</p> + +<p>He came towards us at that, a dark figure looming out of the gloom. And +the next instant we had him one by each hand and pelted him with +questions.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were dead," I said. "How did you come alive again?"</p> + +<p>"What happened?" Moira asked.</p> + +<p>"How did you get here and what were you doing all night?"</p> + +<p>"One question at a time," he said laughingly. "It seems pretty obvious +that I'm not dead, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It does," I admitted. "But you were dead, or you appeared to be, when I +left you last night."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," he said. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>I told him then how I had stumbled across his body on my return the +previous evening, how I had identified him, and, satisfied that he was +dead, had left him to attend to more pressing business. I related how I +had scoured the valley that very morning and failed to find the least +trace of him. What was the explanation of the seeming miracle? I asked.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing miraculous about it," he said. "Last night I must have +been creased, sort of stunned, you know. The bullet didn't go near any +vital part. It just ploughed along the back of my neck and knocked me +unconscious. I suppose I would seem pretty dead to anyone who stumbled +across me. It's not always so easy for a layman to tell whether a man is +really dead or not. However, I remember coming-to just on daylight, and +hearing someone crashing through the bushes. It struck me then that I +didn't know how things had panned out, so I'd better take cover until I +made sure. So when you were hunting for me I was running away from you, +keeping a couple of jumps ahead all the time. I gradually edged round +towards the cave, and was just in time to see a dim figure slip out into +the bushes. I wasn't close enough to see more clearly. Miss Drummond, +you say. Yes, I suppose so; but I didn't know that then. However, as the +cave seemed deserted after that I took possession with the intention of +turning the tables. And then——But you know the rest yourself. How much +further have we got?"</p> + +<p>"Lots," I said. "The others are dead and buried, and I have found the +original site of the hut. Once we locate the lone tree we're right."</p> + +<p>"That should be easy enough," said Moira with a woman's airy assurance.</p> + +<p>Cumshaw watched us both with a queer smile flickering about his lips.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it, Carstairs?" he said at length.</p> + +<p>"I don't fancy there'll be much difficulty in that," I answered. "It +should be plain sailing from now onwards."</p> + +<p>"It strikes me," he said, "that we're just entering upon the toughest +stretch of the lot. However, the sooner we get to work the better. I +vote we start right away."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira protested, "do you think you feel well +enough?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond," he answered, "I've got pains all down my neck, and my +head's humming like a hive of bees, and I've got incipient rheumatics in +every joint in my body from lying all night on the damp ground. It's bad +enough to have all that wrong with me, without being compelled to spend +another day in idleness. No, if I get to work at once I'll feel much +better. Work, you know, is a good soporific."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know best," she conceded, a little doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking things over," I remarked as we made our way back to +the site of the hut, "and it's just struck me that something I once +heard Bryce say might have some bearing on the matter. The night those +chaps burgled us he said, 'They're up a gum-tree when they should be +under one.' I'm not so sure of the exact words now, but that's the +substance of them anyway."</p> + +<p>"But," Cumshaw objected, "he didn't know as much about the Valley then +as we do now."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," I said. "I never thought he really meant anything by what he +said, but that remark's been running through my head. It seems to me +that everyone right through has been obsessed by the idea of the tree, +and now that it's disappeared we're at a loose end. Everybody, from your +father and Bradby down to Bryce and ourselves, has taken it for granted +that a tree's vital to the solution."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" Cumshaw queried quickly.</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "Not in the least," I said. "If the tree was absolutely +necessary it'd mean that we'd have to wait until 3rd or 4th of December, +the day on which Bradby buried the treasure, and the only day of the +year on which the sun, the tree and the threshold of the hut would be in +an exact line. Bryce's idea of having to wait three months must have +been conceived in the belief that the 3rd or 4th June would answer +equally well. It might, but I'm not so sure about it. I guess there'd be +a lot of difference in the declination of the sun. But now the tree's +gone we're left without that seemingly necessary leading mark."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do about it?" Cumshaw demanded.</p> + +<p>"We can't give up after having gone so far," said Moira.</p> + +<p>"We're not," I told her. "There's a way out of it, and the simplest way +on earth. It's so infernally simple that we've all overlooked it. It +narrows down to a simple problem in geometry. Do you remember what the +cypher said?"</p> + +<p>"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to the previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'" +He rattled through the directions so rapidly that I knew he must have +had them off by heart.</p> + +<p>"That's it," I said, while the others listened in breathless interest. +"Now this is the position to my mind: The line that runs through the +doorway, the tree and the sun must go due east. The sun at that time of +the year would be due east. Well, all we have to do is to cast our east +line, carry it along for seven feet, and then turn so that we are facing +direct north."</p> + +<p>"And at right angles to the previous line," Moira reminded me.</p> + +<p>"It's the same thing," I said. "Direct north runs at right angles to +direct east, if you want to know. However, when we've got our north line +we follow it for twelve feet, and after that we dig. Quite possibly +Bradby made some slight variation—he wouldn't have the necessary +instruments to make his figures absolutely exact—but, as I've said +before, I don't see that we can go very far wrong. Whatever variation +there is won't matter much once we start digging. If we allow a foot or +so in all directions we'll be on the safe side. What do you think, +Cumshaw?"</p> + +<p>"Well," he said slowly, "it sounds feasible enough, and if it turns out +as well in practice as it does in theory I'll have nothing to say +against it."</p> + +<p>"There's only one way of making sure," I said tentatively.</p> + +<p>Moira turned on me. "What's that?" she asked with unfeigned interest.</p> + +<p>"Trying and seeing for ourselves," I answered. "Here we are, right on +the very spot, so why not put it to the test?"</p> + +<p>Neither of them answered. A queer, speculative look crept into Moira's +eyes and Cumshaw paled a little beneath his tan. It was the crucial +moment of the expedition, and the mere adoption of my suggestion meant +that in the next few minutes we would be face to face with either +failure or success—none of us knew which. While we were in ignorance +there was always room for hope, but the instant our investigation was +concluded the matter would be settled for good or for evil.</p> + +<p>"Well," I asked, "what about it?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose we've got to do it some time," Cumshaw said slowly. "We might +as well do it first as last. What do you say, Miss Drummond?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," said Moira in a half-whisper. "Ye-es, I suppose we had better."</p> + +<p>"And you, Carstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing venture, nothing win," I quoted gaily. "Anyway it's my +suggestion, and I'm not going to fall down on it. I didn't bring the +spade along just for the fun of carrying it."</p> + +<p>"Go on then," Cumshaw said.</p> + +<p>Then commenced the operation of locating the position of the treasure. +As the one most used to such things I snapped open my pocket-compass, +took a line from the mouldering ruin that had once been the threshold of +the hut, and proceeded to calmly measure off the requisite distance. The +others followed my movements with breathless interest; Cumshaw's cheeks +were still pale, partly from the stress of emotion and partly, I fancy, +because he feared that, even at the last, Fate would play a trick on us +and bring the work of two generations to nothing. Two little red spots +glowed in Moira's cheeks, and in her eyes was an opalescent glow that +spoke of suppressed excitement. I wasn't so carried away by my feelings +as the others were—I had been trained in a rough school, and my +training had taught me at all times to keep an adequate control over my +emotions—but the romance of the adventure and the excitement of the +game had penetrated even my thick skin, and the mere fact that others +hung breathlessly on my movements swayed me a little from the normal. +That streak of vanity which is in all of us came to the surface, as it +does with the best of men at the best of times.</p> + +<p>I didn't see how I could possibly make a mistake, and the only thing +that troubled me was the likelihood of some stray prospector having +stumbled on the hoard by accident. At last I reached the spot where the +north line ended, and then calmly and methodically I took off my coat, +folded it, and laid it on the ground. I rolled up my shirt sleeves and +seized the spade in my hands. The others watched me with apprehensive +eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chapter_VIIb" id="Chapter_VIIb"></a><span class="smcap">Chapter</span> VII.</h2> + +<h3>THE ADVENTURE CLOSES.</h3> + + +<p>I could hear Moira's quick breaths come and go as I worked, and with +each shovelful of soil I turned Cumshaw craned his head a little further +forward.</p> + +<p>"Three foot, maybe three foot six," Cumshaw said once, in a voice that +was curiously hoarse. The remark puzzled me for a moment, and then in a +flash I recollected that his father had told Bryce that the hole where +the gold was buried would be three feet or three feet six deep at a +guess.</p> + +<p>I went on digging. The hole deepened and widened, and still nothing +appeared. I paused in my work and flung the damp perspiration from my +forehead with a grimy hand. I had been working eagerly, excitedly.</p> + +<p>"I'll take a hand now," Cumshaw offered with surprising alacrity.</p> + +<p>I shook my head and stabbed the spade further into the earth. It struck +something soft which yet offered a remarkable resistance to the progress +of the instrument. And then in an instant I was down on my knees, the +steaming sting of my perspiring face all forgotten in the wild intense +eagerness of my discovery. I flung the spade about like a mad-man, and +my breath came and went through my teeth with a hissing sound like that +of escaping steam. I was mud and muck from head to foot and my hands +were caked with clay, but that did not matter. Nothing mattered save the +one startling fact that I had struck something that answered to the +description of the stuff we were seeking. At last, after seemingly +eternal hours of incredible toil, though in reality it couldn't have +been more than a few seconds, the earth came away, and my spade lay bare +four bags of mouldering leather—four torn and decaying things through +which came the dull golden gleam of minted metal. With a smothered cry +Cumshaw threw himself on the saddle-bags and hugged and clawed them like +a man gone demented. For the moment there came a curious vulpine look +into his face, and then it passed so swiftly that I could have fancied +that it had never been there or anywhere else save in my imagination.</p> + +<p>"We've found it at last," I said, and was surprised to find how thin my +voice had become. It was the first rational word since I had begun to +dig, and it acted on Cumshaw like a douche of cold water. He dropped the +bags as if he had been stung, and climbed out of the hole rather +shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>Moira opened her mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. Ludicrous +as it all looked, it was sufficient to show me just how unbalanced sane +people can become at the sight of gold. The three of us looked at each +other, and then I fancy we all laughed, albeit a little hysterically.</p> + +<p>The rest is soon told. We got the rotting bags out somehow, and portion +of their contents spilled out on the ground, though we didn't mind that +at the time. There was more money in each of the bags than any one of us +had ever handled before. In the light of what happened afterwards I'm +positive that it was Cumshaw who suggested filling up the hole.</p> + +<p>"A good idea," I thought. A gaping hole in the ground might attract the +attention of strangers and lead to further enquiries—the kind of +enquiries that would not be welcomed by us. I had thrown all but the +last shovelful in when Cumshaw drew something from his pocket, looked at +it a moment, and then, with a muttered exclamation, threw it into the +hole and trod it deep into the earth. I got but the one look at it, and +it seemed to me to be an ordinary leather-covered pocket-book. I was on +the point of asking him the meaning of his action when I chanced to +glance up at his face, and what I saw there made me shut my lips down +like a steel trap. I said nothing, and beyond my first natural start of +surprise I don't think I gave myself away at all.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It doesn't matter just how much we made out of it. If I were to write +down the exact figures no one would believe them or me; but when I say +that neither Cumshaw nor I—for Moira pooled her share with mine after +all—will have to do a hand's turn again as long as we live, some idea +can be gained of what was in those four decaying saddle-bags. To place +gold, more especially minted coin, in circulation in this year of grace +one thousand nine hundred and twenty requires more ingenuity than most +men are possessed of, and frankly I could see no way out of it for many +a long day. But in the end I struck an unexpected solution. What that +solution was is neither here nor there: the expedients I resorted to +would, if written down, fill a longer and perhaps a more exciting volume +than this. Some day, when old age is creeping on me and the good opinion +of my neighbours has almost ceased to matter, I may tell the tale in its +entirety.</p> + +<p>As we had no desire to attract more attention than we could help we did +not attempt to take the gold along with us. Instead we buried it in a +secluded spot not far from the railway, and a week or so later Cumshaw +and I returned in the car for it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I wonder," I said, "how those chaps managed to find out so much about +everything? Of course they were paralleling Bryce's investigations, but +that doesn't explain all; they knew more about some things than he did +himself."</p> + +<p>We were sitting round the fire one evening a month or so later. Moira +and I had just returned from our honeymoon, and Cumshaw had dropped in +with the news that his father was in the hands of a noted alienist who +hoped in time to completely cure the old man. The announcement had set +us talking about our recent experiences, and <i>apropos</i> of them I had +uttered the above remark.</p> + +<p>"I've often wondered," Moira said, "how they first learnt about the +treasure."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a space and then Cumshaw spoke. "I rather fancy," +he said, "that they knew about its existence long before Mr. Bryce did."</p> + +<p>Moira shot a startled glance at him and I said, "Whatever do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You remember that pocket-book I threw into the trench the day we found +the treasure?"</p> + +<p>I nodded. "Yes," said Moira breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"I found that in the grass early in the morning before I went up to the +cave. It was a diary belonging to a man named Alick Blane. I didn't read +it right through—I didn't have the time for one thing—but what I did +see told me all I wanted to know. I buried it in the trench because I +did not want what was written in the book to be published to the world. +It was one of those things that are better kept out of sight and +circulation."</p> + +<p>"But what was it?" I queried.</p> + +<p>He looked at us a moment as if debating with himself whether or not to +tell us.</p> + +<p>"Alick Blane's father was the trooper who shot Bradby," he said, and +left us to imagine all the rest.</p> + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Valley, by J. M. 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Walsh + +Release Date: September 2, 2006 [EBook #19162] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST VALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Michael Ciesielski, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE LOST VALLEY + + By J. M. WALSH + + 1921 + +The C. J. DeGARIS PUBLISHING HOUSE +MELBOURNE + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I. + +THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE + +I.--The Adventure on the Sands + +II.--An Old Friend + +III.--The Strange Behaviour of Mr. Bryce + +IV.--The Thief in the Night + +V.--Circumstantial Evidence + +VI.--I Tell a Lie + +VII.--Introducing Mr. Albert Cumshaw + + +PART II. + +THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW + +I.--Nightfall + +II.--The Pursuit + +III.--The Hidden Valley + +IV.--When Thieves Fall Out + +V.--Expiation + +VI.--The Hegira of Mr. Abel Cumshaw + +VII.--The Gathering of the Eagles + + +PART III. + +THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY + +I.--The Cypher + +II.--Over the Hills and Far Away + +III.--The Promised Land + +IV.--We Enter the Valley + +V.--Dies Irae + +VI.--The Solution + +VII.--The Adventure Closes + + + + +PART I. + +_THE POSTHUMOUS PUZZLE OF MR. BRYCE._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE ADVENTURE ON THE SANDS. + + +I came upon the place quite unexpectedly. Centuries of wind and wave had +carved a little nook out of the foot of the cliff and fashioned it so +cunningly that I did not see it until I was right on top of it. After +the warmth of the open beach and the glare of the white road I had +recently travelled its shade looked so inviting that I limped in under +the overhang of the cliff and dropped joyfully on to the cool patch of +sand. It was the first moment of contentment I had known for many weary +months, and, needless to say, I set myself out to make the most of it. I +was absolutely sick of tramping about. My left boot had burst and, by +the feel of it, there wasn't too much left of my right sole. I had been +crawling along the road since daylight--and for many days before for +that matter--searching for a job that failed to materialise. + +Jobs, it appeared, were just about as scarce as cool spots in Hades. +They had been very kind to me at the last farmhouse. The good lady had +given me an excellent breakfast and an extra glass of milk, had loaded +my bedraggled pockets with food and had finally put me on the road to +the sea. Work, she said, they could not give me. They had put off two +men the previous day. I might find something to do in the next town. She +did tell me what it was called, but my thoughts were on my own poor +prospects and I didn't quite catch what she said. On the principle that +a rose by any other name would still have its thorns, I didn't ask her +to repeat it. I just said, "Thank you, ma'am," in my best tramp manner +and set off down the road to the sea. On the way my left boot burst and +a pebble worked in through the opening and set me limping. To make +matters worse the day was perhaps the hottest of all that memorable +summer, and the glare from the white grit of the road played the devil +with my eyes. I was very pleased when at length I reached the low sand +dunes and dropped between them on to the wet sand of the beach. I walked +along this aimlessly for a mile or so until the big hump of the bluff +rose up over me. Then, as I have already related, I came across that +heaven-sent cave and threw my weary length on its damp flooring of sand, +determined to snatch as much peace and repose as I could before I +continued my search for work. + +I can't say for the life of me how long it was before I first sat up and +took notice of the fat little man. He was bobbing up and down in the +surf for all the world like some ungainly porpoise, and every time he +moved he shot sunlit streams of water off his gross body. I've seen fat +men in my time, but this one was just about the limit. He was all up and +down and then across. I know that doesn't quite explain what he looked +like, but it's about the only way I can describe him. He was short and +tubby; if he had been any shorter he would have been a human +Humpty-Dumpty. He was so obviously enjoying himself and getting the best +out of his gambols in the water that my heart went out to him. He was +ducking and splashing about, rolling and wallowing in a way that +reminded me of a hippopotamus I had once shot at--and missed--in happier +if not more spacious days spent on the lower Nile. "The Hippo" I +christened him, and then chuckled to myself at the singular +appropriateness of the name. + +Even his bathing dress seemed designed expressly to add to his +rotundity. It was one of those queer garments bearing a faint +resemblance to a convict's uniform, and the wide stripes of it went +round and round his figure like hoops on a barrel. It was so funny that +I chuckled again and forgot all about my burning feet and my burst boot. + +Presently he stopped his antics and looked over my way. He gave one +glance at me, and then started to run inshore with short, jumpy little +steps. Something seemed to have struck him all of a sudden, and I was +just beginning to wonder what the deuce it could be when, out of the +corner of my eyes, I caught sight of a pile of neatly folded clothes +thrust into the cleft of the rock a little above my head. I began to +understand then. I looked more disreputable than I really was; my suit +was in the last stages of ruinous decay, while his brand-new clothes +just above me would have been a gift from the gods to a man with less +conscience and more figure than I possessed. He evidently presumed on +the strength of my proximity that I had evil designs on his clothes, but +he needn't have troubled himself. If I could judge anything from his own +figure I would have been completely lost in them. I didn't like to +confirm his suspicions by running away now that I found I was observed, +so I just sat there and waited for him. There was a piece of something +that looked very like driftwood protruding from the sand close to me, +and I kicked idly at it as he came pounding up the beach. It was set +loosely in the sand, and a more accurate kick than usual knocked it out +of its resting-place. Something queer about it caught my eye, and I bent +over to pick it up. + +"Whatever else it is, it isn't driftwood," I said to myself. "I'll +bet----," and then I stopped short, for I remembered that my sole +worldly wealth at the moment consisted of exactly three pennies. All the +same I was right about it. Driftwood doesn't get the dry rot, nor does +it come ashore covered with rich black loam. + +"Somebody's planted it here," was my next thought, and my mind strayed +to the panting bulk of a man who was thundering down on top of me. + +"It's his, I suppose," I said, and looked up at him. At that precise +instant he tripped and fell full length on the sand. I've seen a good +many lucky escapes in my day--a man who has travelled the out-of-the-way +places of the world from the Yukon and the White Nile down to the +headwaters of the Fly River in the snow-mountains of Dutch New Guinea +does see a bit of life--but the way that fat chap upset himself into the +sand was the most wonderful piece of good fortune I ever came across. He +must have missed death by a fraction of an inch. I saw him fall, heard +the shot ring out and watched the sand spurt up all in the one crowded +second. The next moment I was running towards him, my hand moving +instinctively to my empty pistol-pocket. But my mind readjusted itself +in a flash, and I recollected that I wasn't dodging cannibals in the +upper reaches of the Mambare, but was living in a civilised country +where a man who carries a revolver, and gets caught at it, is fined more +money than I'd seen in the last twelve months. + +The other chap seemed to divine instinctively that I was a friend, for +he yelled at me even while he was hauling himself up from the sand. + +"There's one in my pocket," he shouted and gesticulated back towards his +clothes. + +I didn't waste a moment, but sped over the intervening yards like a man +possessed. As luck would have it his coat was the first thing I grabbed, +and the weight of it told me at once in which pocket to look. I plunged +my hand in and drew out the sweetest little automatic it has ever been +my lot to handle. As a rule I prefer a Colt--in my experience it never +jams--but I rather fancied my present weapon would do all that was +required, so I slipped back the safety catch with my thumb and whirled +round on my heel to face whatever was coming. + +The overture was already over and the invisible marksman had settled +down to steady firing. The fat man was now almost on top of me, and I +saw instantly that that brought me right into the line of fire. It takes +a long time in the telling, but, as I figured it out afterwards, from +the instant the first shot missed the old chap down to the moment I +pulled the trigger, more than half a minute could not have elapsed. + +There was only one place in sight where a man could take cover, and that +was a bunch of rocks just a little to the left of my position. I let off +a fancy shot in that direction, and a second later the reply rang out. +The cliff overhead shed a shower of dust on top of the pair of us, and +the fat man crouched into the corner. I knew now where my man was, so I +waited until he exposed himself, as I saw he must do when he fired +again. + +"Gimme the gun!" the fat man demanded in the interval. + +"Shut up!" I said, without turning my head. "I'm a better shot than you, +I reckon, and, anyway, it's just as much my funeral now as yours. He's +had a shot at me, and that's a thing I don't forgive in a hurry." + +"Well, of all the----," I heard him say, and then the rest of his remark +was drowned in the report of my weapon. I had spotted a white wrist back +of a gleam of polished metal and, taking a sporting chance, I let drive. +The other man's gun dropped to the sand, and a yell told me that I had +made no mistake. + +"Here's where I come in," I said, and, forgetting the condition of my +feet, I sprinted towards the rocks. But the other fellow had decided +that the place was getting too hot for him, and he made off along the +sand as fast as his legs could carry him. He must have been in excellent +trim, for he shot along the heavy track as if he was running on the +cinder-path, and I saw before I had gone fifty yards that I hadn't a +chance in the world of catching him. Also there were half a dozen black +specks of men a mile or so along the beach, and my reason told me that +homicide before witnesses wasn't likely to prove a healthy pastime. So I +swallowed my pride and, consoling myself with the thought that some day +we might meet again, I wheeled about and made back to the nook. + +The fat chap had shed his bathing suit and was climbing into his clothes +when I arrived. He beamed at me and his whole face crinkled into smiles. +I was so afraid that he was going to make a silly speech that I pushed +his automatic into his hands and said, "You'd better take this, old man. +The other party's in swift retreat and, from the condition of his wrist, +I don't fancy you'll receive another billet-doux for some time to come." + +"Well, I'm hanged if you're not the coolest chap I've ever laid eyes +on," the fat man said admiringly. + +"You were nearer being shot," I hinted, "and, if you don't mind me +saying so, the sooner you struggle into those clothes of yours and get +home to mother, the safer you'll be. I don't object to fighting for you +once in a while, but I'll see you further before I make a habit of it." + +"Um!" said the fat man, "I'm sorry. I'd hoped to persuade you to take it +on permanently." + +I thought at first that he was joking, but the way he looked at me +showed that he was in deadly earnest. For all his flippancy there was +something back of his eyes, a trace of fear that kept peeping out every +now and then, that told me he went in danger of his life. I hated to +have to refuse him, but I had very good reasons, which I intended to +keep to myself, too, for not putting my life into danger too often. So I +told him point-blank that if he wanted to hire a bodyguard he'd have to +go somewhere else. He wasn't as put out at my reply as I would have +expected. Instead he smiled up at me--for all his bulk I towered over +him--and there was a touch of gameness in that smile that I rather +liked. I couldn't help telling him just what I thought. + +"I don't think you want anyone to look after you," I said. "You're as +game as they make 'em. I'm pretty used to reading men--I've been in +places where my life depended on my ability in that direction--and when +I see a fellow smile like you're smiling now, you can take it from me +that he's grit all through." + +"They'll get me yet," he said with a sigh. "I'm handicapped, you see. I +couldn't have sprinted along the beach the way you did. I'd have +wheezed. Bellows gone and all that, you know. Too much fat, the doctor +says." + +"Now, you're just about right there. I don't like to be personal, but +now you mention it, you don't seem to have the cut of an athlete." + +"And you have," he said, as he insinuated himself into his collar. It +was a trifle too small for his neck, and he had to coax it a lot before +he got both ends to meet. "You're the type of man I take to instantly, +Mr. ----." + +He asked me a question with his eyes. + +"Well," I said in answer, "if it's any use to you my name's Carstairs, +Jimmy Carstairs at that, and I'm an explorer by inclination, gentleman +by instinct, and the rolling-stone-that-gathers-no-moss by sheer force +of unlovely circumstance. Now you know all that I intend to tell you +about myself." + +"Um!" he said again. "I had better introduce myself, I suppose. I fancy +my card-case's in my coat pocket." + +"Don't trouble about a card," I said airily. "I'm not at all fussy. I'm +quite willing to take your word for it." + +There was a twinkle in his eye, as he replied, that showed he rather +appreciated my cheap wit. "Bryce is my name," he said. "You may have +heard of it?" + +"Can't say I have," I told him, "though I'm pretty certain to see it +often if you make a practice of keeping up this guerilla warfare." + +It wasn't a nice thing to say, but then I'm never very particular, and +if my listeners don't like my remarks they're always welcome to change +the subject. When all's said and done there was more in that last jab of +mine than met the ear. I wanted very much to know why that sharpshooter +should be so extremely anxious to put him out of action. Also he had +said "they." There had only been one man behind the rocks, and I could +have sworn on a stack of Bibles that there wasn't another human +being--with the sole exception of the men a mile or so along the +beach--within coo-ee at the time. "You've been there before, my friend," +I thought. "This isn't the first time you've flushed a chap with a bit +of hardware." From what I could see Bryce hadn't the slightest intention +of making me as wise as himself and even the broad hint I gave him +didn't seem to move him in the least. He surveyed me steadily for the +scrag-end of a minute and then his left eyelid flickered. I knew right +enough what that wink meant. It said as plainly as could be that dead +men tell no tales and wise men follow their example. + +"Now, Mr. Bryce," I said, "I like your company and it pains me to leave +you, but I can't stop here for ever. I've got an important engagement at +the next town and the sooner I get there the better. Under the +circumstances you'll have to excuse me." + +He didn't tell me that I was a liar but he went pretty close to it. "The +next town's Geelong," he said, "and it's a good fourteen miles away. You +might have sprinted along that sand in record time when somebody's life +was trembling in the balance, but that doesn't say you can walk fourteen +miles on a rotten road on a broiling hot day. And if I wished to be as +personal as you are I'd point out that a burst boot doesn't help make +the way any easier." + +"Bowled out first shot," I told him. "What's your little game?" + +"To use your own inimitable phraseology, my little game amounts to this. +I've taken a violent fancy to you, Carstairs, and I want to keep you by +me. I don't think your luck's been too good lately, but between us I +fancy we can mend it. If you want to go into Geelong all you've got to +do is wait and come with me. I'm going back shortly, and I'm sure you'd +feel much better riding in a motor than travelling on foot." + +"Now you mention it," I said, "I can't see why I shouldn't. The only +trouble is that some of your excitable friends might see me in your +company and include me in the sudden-death stakes." + +"Quite likely," Bryce said, with a smile. "I wouldn't be at all +surprised if they hid behind a convenient hedge and potted us as we +passed. But you needn't come if that's what you're afraid of." + +"I'll forgive you this time," I rattled on, "just because you've had +such an exciting experience, but don't ever hint anything like that +again. I don't know what fear's like." + +"Self-praise," said Bryce, "is sometimes the highest form of +recommendation. At any rate it shows you've overcome fear, if only the +fear of criticism. But to be serious, Carstairs, there's trouble ahead +of both of us. My pursuers are getting very game, tackling me in front +of a third person, and I've got a funny sort of feeling that they'll +catch me napping one of these days. No matter what you say or do, you +can't alter the fact that you've identified yourself with me, and that +means that you're running just the same amount of danger that I am. You +don't look too prosperous yourself. What about joining forces with me +and sharing the plunder? Of course I can make it worth your while." + +"Plunder," I said. "What do you mean! Are you running up against the +law?" + +"If it's any relief to you to know it, I'm not. I rather fancy I've got +the law on my side." + +"I was merely enquiring what inducements you had to offer. What do you +call 'making it worth my while?'" + +When I turned down his first tentative offer I had quite made up my mind +that he wanted to engage me as a sort of super-butler with sudden death +included amongst the risks of service, and I had no intention of mixing +up in other people's quarrels on such terms. When I questioned him +directly about it I got a pleasant surprise. + +"Well, my idea of making it worth your while is something like L100 for +three months. That's about as long as I'll require you. After that you +can 'go to hell or to Connaught,' whichever you prefer." + +"That's nice hearing," I told him. "And, I suppose, any time I take an +extra risk I get something _pour boire_?" + +He nodded cheerfully. + +"That's my offer, Carstairs," he said. "What do you say to it?" + +"It's so damned alluring," I answered, "that I'm frightened to look at +it too close. I don't mind admitting that I'm about as hard up as I can +be. As a matter of fact I've not the least idea where I'm going to get +my next meal. All of which makes your offer doubly inviting. But I don't +want to jump at it in hot blood. I want time to think it over. I want to +stand off and wave my hat at it and say, 'Scat, you brute!' and see if +it'll shoo off. I'm frightened that it's not real, and that I'll take it +on and then wake up. Will you give me time to wake up?" + +"If you'll drive in with me the two of us can dine together," Bryce +suggested. "That ought to give you time to wake up." + +"I can't ask anything fairer than that," I agreed. "When do we start?" + +"No time like the present. I've got the car paddocked down near the +reserve. It's only a matter of walking around the bluff. Come on." + +I went along with him without comment, though I noticed that the last +thing he did was to bend down and pick up the piece of wood which had so +excited my curiosity earlier in the proceedings. It was small enough to +slip into his pocket, and this he did without a word either of apology +or explanation. + +"It's a mighty innocent piece of wood," I thought, "but I'll bet all +Australia to an albatross that it's mixed up in the plot." + +As we moved around the foot of the bluff I couldn't help turning the +situation over in my mind. Half an hour before I had been a wanderer on +the face of the earth, a man with no special abilities and no +outstanding vices. In that short space of time I had saved one man's +life, nearly taken that of another, and seemed in a fair way to make +money out of my twin attributes of steady nerves and good shooting. I +was still thinking in this strain when we rounded the bluff and +commenced to crawl across the intervening stretch of spinifex grass. I +say "crawl" advisedly. Bryce was far too heavy to do more than lumber +along and my feet were steadily getting worse. The spinifex grew +knee-high and its roots extended in all directions. They were hard, +knobby things that protruded through the loose sand, and every time I +took my attention off the ground for an instant I stubbed my toe against +one or the other of them. Bryce panted and puffed and wheezed and seemed +more like an hippopotamus than ever. Whatever might be the gain as far +as decency was concerned, his clothes, from a spectacular point of view, +made him look worse than ever. His collar was tight, and that made his +face the color of a scraped carrot, and his coat and trousers clung to +him in the most unexpected places--just where they shouldn't. + +To make a long story short, we came at last to the edge of the spinifex, +and thence dropped steadily down into the hollow that contained the +reserve. I picked out Bryce's car right off. It was painted a battleship +grey, and if cars can have a personality, this had such another as its +owner. It wasn't slim--there was nothing of the racer about it. It was +squatly built and had just the same heavy and humorous look as Bryce +himself. It stood out from the other cars like a hunch-back amongst a +line of athletes. + +"That's my car," said Bryce proudly. "She's not much to look at, but +she's just the sweetest runner you've seen." + +I nodded. I was quite open to conviction. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AN OLD FRIEND. + + +Hitherto events had moved so swiftly that I hadn't had time to look +calmly at the situation, but once we settled down in the car and Barwon +Heads dropped into the dust behind us, I began to think rather +seriously. It was perfectly obvious, even to a more clouded intelligence +than mine, that there was something mysterious, if not shady, about my +prospective employer. Despite his assurance that the law was on his +side, I had grave doubts. If everything was perfectly square and above +board why the deuce didn't he report the affair to the police and give +them the task of looking after him, instead of hiring me at an +exorbitant wage? He seemed anxious to fight shy of publicity in any +shape or form and, though he had been very cordial, even familiar with +me, his very apparent frankness and joviality had awakened my +suspicions. There was something fishy going on, and that something, +whatever it was, centred round the piece of wood that I had so casually +kicked out of the sand. It struck me all of a heap that nothing had +really begun to happen until I had unearthed it. As soon as Bryce had +seen where I was sitting, he had started to run inshore, the other man +had stationed himself behind the rocks, the curtain had been rung up and +the play had begun. Now the question was what part did the piece of wood +play in the game? Bryce, I felt sure, could clear the mystery up with a +word, but I was certain that it would be long before he would say that +word. + +The car was all and more than he had said. It had speed, it was +comfortable, and its mechanism was far less complicated than any I had +yet seen. We ate up distance in fine style. Bryce seemed to have no +nerves at all, for more than once he tore round corners on two wheels +while I clung to the side of the car and swore at him. He grinned +cheerfully over his shoulder at me and asked me if I were nervous. + +I laughed back at him with as much _sang-froid_ as I could muster. I had +no objection to risking my life once in a while when there was good pay +at the end of it, but I couldn't see the sense of tempting Providence +just for the sheer fun of the thing. Of course, if we did spill, it +would be all right with Bryce--he was so fat that he'd just bounce--but +I was slimmer, and I knew from experience that I had very brittle bones. +Once in the Solomons, when a wild boar charged me, I lay for weeks in a +trader's hut waiting for an obdurate fracture to knit up again. Some +idea of the furious pace at which Bryce pushed the car along can be +guessed from the fact that we did the fourteen miles in something over +twenty minutes. It had been quite half-past eleven when we left the +Heads, and the clock in the car wanted a few minutes to twelve when we +sailed over the bridge and up Moorabool-street. We cleared a stationary +tram by inches, twisted in an S curve to avoid a farmer's waggon and +then, with a heart-rending grind, Bryce threw over his clutch and slowed +down to a snail-like crawl of ten miles an hour. + +"This asphalt paving makes a great motor track," Bryce said to me, "but +there's speed-laws in existence here. That's the trouble of it. When a +man has a nice track he's interfered with, and when there isn't anyone +to meddle with him it's ten to one that he's crawling over something +like a corduroy road." + +"Corduroy!" I said, and sat up and looked at him. I knew what he meant. +Any man who has ever travelled the heart-breaking log-roads of the +interior New Guinea goldfields does not need to be told what 'corduroy' +is. It is an ever-present memory, an astonishment and a nightmare. Bryce +did not speak from hearsay--the note in his voice told me that--but was +talking from experience garnered at great cost, both of money and +energy. + +"Corduroy," he repeated after me. "Doesn't that sound familiar to you, +Carstairs?" + +"It does," I said with emphasis. "But how the deuce----?" And then I +stopped dead. Bryce? Bryce? What was familiar about that name? Bryce and +New Guinea and----. I had it. And Walter Carstairs. + +"Ever heard of Walter Carstairs?" I questioned. + +"The minute I heard your name I knew you," Bryce said. "Ever heard of +Walter Carstairs? Why, he was the best friend I ever had. He saved my +life in the early days of the Woodlarks." + +"According to the Dad," I said, looking him straight in the face, "it +was the other way about." + +He laughed happily. "Jimmy, I'm losing my memory if that's so. But +whatever happened to him? I lost sight of him the last ten years or so." + +"You would," I answered. "He stuck to the Islands. He had a life's work +planned out, but he got cut-off in the Solomons before he had reached +finality. I carried it on after that, came all the way from the Klondyke +to take it up. I got through but it took every penny I had, and that's +why this morning when I came across you I only had a boot and a half to +my feet." + +"Well, well," he said kindly, "that's all changed now." + +"I don't know so much about it," I told him. "You might have been the +best friend the Dad ever had, but that doesn't say you're going to keep +me. What I get I work for. I'll take charity from no man living." + +Again he laughed, and his fat face crinkled up into little rolls of +flesh until he looked as if he had double chins all the way up to his +eyes. I knew now why he had been so familiar with me earlier in the day. +He was a sunny-natured old chap always, even in the hard, toilsome New +Guinea days, and I suppose his heart went out to me as the son of an old +comrade in arms, doubly so--perhaps because I had saved his life. On the +whole I rather wished I hadn't. It complicated matters so. It made me +feel bound to give him a hand, whether his enterprise was shady or not. + +If he had turned to me then and said, "I suppose I can count on you all +right?" I would have been torn between duty and inclination. He did +nothing of the sort. He made no reference to his offer of service, in +fact he seemed to have completely forgotten it, and I thought it just as +well to say nothing. The way he forebore from seizing a perfectly +obvious advantage sent him up fifty per cent. in my estimation, and by +the time we had reached the heart of the city I was quite willing to do +anything he asked me. + +"I'll park the car," he said, "and then we'll go off and have some +dinner." + +"Will we?" I said and eyed my tattered raiment ruefully. "I don't fancy +I'm dressed for dinner." + +"Um!" he said. "You're not. I'd quite overlooked that. That bars a +public dinner. I don't fancy you'll be able to make much of one if you +come down to my place. The cook's away. I didn't expect to be back so +soon." + +"Cook or no cook," I told him, "if you've got anything eatable in the +house I'll guarantee to turn it up right. Give me the run of the kitchen +and put me next to the meat-safe, and you'll see wonders. I don't know +how you feel, but I'm so hungry that I'd make a meal off a pair of kid +boots." + +"In that case, Carstairs, I think I'd better take you home and see what +sort of a culinary expert you are." + +With that he twisted the car about and headed out for the eastern +suburbs. The place was unfamiliar to me at the time--I hadn't the +faintest idea of the street the man lived in--and in the face of what +happened later I made no enquiries. As a matter of fact the rush of +events crowded all such petty details out of my mind. + +"Can you drive a car?" he asked abruptly. + +"I can drive anything but an Andean mule," I told him. "I tried once in +the Chilian foot-hills, but after the animal dislocated my shoulder I +sort of lost heart." + +"I gather from the retiring modesty of your last remark," he smiled, +"that you consider yourself an expert as regards all other forms of +animal and mechanical traction." + +"Quite so. I can always do anything on principle, and I've yet to meet +the job that I'm unwilling to tackle!" + +He glanced sideways at me. I didn't like the look he gave me. There was +too much of appraisement in it, something that was alien to the nature +of the man, a sort of cold, calculating shrewdness that made me wonder +again if I had not been mistaken in my estimate of him and the extent of +his good-nature. + +"If you keep on admiring me instead of looking where you're going," I +hinted, "you'll end up in a funeral. That motor-bus isn't the sort of +thing I'd care to hit." + +He twisted the wheel over a fraction and edged out beyond the motor-bus +before he replied. "Life is full of thrills," he remarked when at last +we reached the comparative security of open space. There was a challenge +in his voice that I thought it well to ignore. + +"It is," I agreed. "Too much so." + +For all the lightness of his speech and the careless ease with which he +took unnecessary and avoidable risks I had a feeling that there was deep +design under everything he did. Though I couldn't have proved it if I'd +been asked, I felt sure that he was trying my nerve. After all there's +no better test of that than the crowded traffic of a big city. I've met +men who'd cheerfully face a crowd of howling cannibals and yet would +develop a very bad case of jumps if asked to cross a street roaring and +humming with traffic. Yes, clearly he was testing me. + +With a jerk that nearly shot me out of my seat the car pulled up. I +stared about me. We had stopped outside a substantial red-tiled house, +built in the bungalow fashion. There was a well-kept lawn in front of +it, with here and there a trim flower-bed to relieve the monotony of the +expanse of grass. + +"This is the place," Bryce said. "Just slip down and open that gate, +will you?" + +He gesticulated towards a six-foot gate at the side of the house. From +my position in the car I could see that it opened on a path that ran +round the side of the building and almost certainly led to the garage. +Accordingly I slipped out on the road, walked up to the gate and found +that, by standing on tip-toe, I could just reach the catch at the top. I +swung it back, pushed with my weight against the erection and the gate +came open. + +As I turned to come back to the car I caught sight of a man standing on +the opposite corner. He was engaged in lighting a cigarette in the cup +of his hands. He seemed to be taking an undue time over it, and that and +something that I could not put a name to in his attitude convinced me +that he was watching us. His hands were so cupped that they hid his +face, but I received an impression, that was almost a certainty, that he +was watching Bryce and myself through his fingers. Perhaps my prolonged +stare convinced him that I was fully aware of his presence and its +meaning. At any rate he twisted on his heel so that his back was turned +to us, dropped the match he had been playing with and ostentatiously +struck another. + +"That gentleman across the road, the one with his back to us, is keeping +your house under surveillance," I said to Bryce. "I suppose he's afraid +the place'll run away." + +"Afraid I'll run away, more likely," Bryce answered. "Evidently he +doesn't want to be identified next time we meet. But he needn't worry +over that; I wouldn't know him from a bar of soap. We'll leave him alone +for the time being, Carstairs, and get this machine in. I don't see any +reason why we should let this gentleman delay our dinner." + +"No more do I. Let her out." + +I stood on the step of the car until it had passed the entrance in +safety, then I went back and made the gate fast. But before doing so I +just couldn't resist taking a peep at the Roman sentry figure of a man +opposite. He was staring straight at the gate--as if that was going to +help him in any way--but he was pretty alert. The moment he sighted me +he wheeled about and walked off in another direction. But, quick and all +as he was, I caught a passing glimpse of him. He had on a blue serge +suit, a rather cheap affair as well as I could judge at that distance, +and a black felt hat. Somehow I got the impression, though I was too far +away to say anything with certainty, that he was not so much sallow as +sunburnt. It was more than likely that he had not got a good look at +me--in that case he would not know me again, as I flattered myself that +there was nothing very distinctive about me. Still, as that marksman +behind the rocks must have been taking stock of me for some considerable +while, I realised that no definite advantage would accrue from the fact +that one of the gang might not be able to identify me. I had no means of +ascertaining how many there were in the organisation, and something +warned me not to display too much interest in Bryce's presence. When I +walked down the path and discovered him backing the car into his garage +I made no comment on the situation beyond telling him that the spy had +gone temporarily out of business and was at present taking a +constitutional down the street. + +"All we can do then," Bryce said, "is to let him depart in peace and +trust that nothing happens. I wouldn't like any of that bunch to be cut +off in the midst of their sins. I've got another end mapped out for +them." + +"If you figure me in on that, you're mighty mistaken," I said to myself. +"I'm the first line of defence, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to carry +the war into the enemy's country." + +I needn't have been so cocksure about it, for as will shortly be related +that was just exactly what I did do. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF MR. BRYCE. + + +I made an excellent dinner. Bryce's kitchen and the meat-safes attached +proved on investigation to contain enough food for a family. First of +all I had a wash, and then when I felt a little more presentable, I dug +up a frying-pan, asked Bryce if he liked sausages and, being told that +he did, thanked Heaven that his tastes were similar to mine and set +about cooking them. Now I like my sausages fried nice and crisp, but I +have yet to find the lodging-house keeper this side of Gehenna who can +fry anything without burning it to a cinder. Though I don't wish to +crack up my own work, I'll say this for it--that, if I do like things +done any particular way, I can always be sure of pleasing myself if I do +the cooking. + +I cooked with one eye on the gas-stove and the other on Bryce. I had +scarcely set to work before he wandered into the kitchen, found the +nail-brush or whatever it was that the cook used for cleaning the pots, +washed the black loam off the piece of wood which had so excited my +curiosity earlier in the day, and then commenced to scrub it. He used up +an inordinate amount of soap and quite a lot of elbow-grease, but when +he had finished the wood looked as if it had just been newly cut and +trimmed. What took my attention about it was that it was covered from +end to end with queer little marks or scratches. These seemed to +interest Bryce very much, for he pored over them like an antiquary who +has discovered a new kind of hieroglyphics. He got so interested in them +that he forgot my presence altogether. Once when I asked him some simple +question about the dinner he jumped as if he were shot, colored up and +then said, "Oh, I beg your pardon. What did you say?" + +I repeated my question and he answered me as if his thoughts were miles +away. He was wide-awake enough when I walked over to the kitchen sink on +some errand or another to slip the wood into his pocket and face me with +a look in his eye that said as plainly as so many words, "You're not +going to steal a march on me, my lad. That's for my eyes alone." Only +once during the dinner-hour did he say anything that stuck in my memory. +On this occasion he turned to me and asked, "Can you use a typewriter?" + +"Now, he's going to make a private secretary of me," I thought. "I won't +bite." So I looked him straight in the eye and unblushingly answered +that I couldn't use one if I tried and hoped he didn't want me to learn, +as I was sure I'd only make a mess of it. He seemed rather relieved at +that and later in the afternoon, when I heard the "tick-tack" of his +machine drifting out from the room in which he had locked himself, I +began to wonder just what he had been driving at. + +He drifted out to the kitchen later on and asked me to light the fire +for him. I did so and he watched it blaze up, and as soon as he was sure +that it was well alight he drew that inevitable piece of wood from his +pocket, soaked it in kerosene and dropped it into the heart of the fire. +I'm hanged if he didn't sit there and watch it until it had burnt into a +charred heap of ashes. While he had been attending to it he had left a +sheet of typewritten paper down on the table and as he turned to get it +it fluttered to the floor. I was the nearer to it so I picked it up and +handed it to him. As I did so I caught a glimpse of the characters that +covered most of it. I got just the one look at them, but one line I +noticed ran somehow like this-- + +--31/41/2743 1/23:3; "335 "49--5@3 31/41/2534; 3; L + +He looked at me queerly as he took the paper. "Have you ever done any +timber measurements?" he asked. + +"None at all," I answered promptly, and this time I told the truth. + +"You wouldn't understand this then," he ran on, indicating the paper, +though he was careful not to let me have another look at it. + +"I saw some of it," I said off-handedly, as if it were no affair of +mine, "and it looked to me like the sort of thing a mathematician would +see if he ever got the willies." + +"You have a most expressive way of putting things, Carstairs," he said +with a smile. There was more than humor in that smile; there was +something in it that looked remarkably like relief. + +"I can't stand figures of any sort," I volunteered with a fervent hope +in my heart that I wasn't over-doing my part. "A sheet of them'd just +about give me the D.Ts." + +He laughed out loud at that and then, expressing a hope that I would +make myself at home, he padded out of the room. It was astonishing how +quietly he could walk when he was moving about the house. For all his +gross bulk there was something furtive and cat-like about him that told +me just how insistent must be the menace of a sudden death. He moved so +silently that I never knew he was there until I looked up and saw him. +He glided from room to room like some obese ghost. At first it got on my +nerves, but pretty soon I settled down to it, and in a day or so got +quite used to seeing a silent bulk sliding noiselessly about the house, +appearing at all sorts of odd times in all sorts of queer places. + +The cook returned about 5 o'clock and seemed rather inclined to take up +a high-handed attitude with me, until a few well-chosen words from her +master quietened her down a little. She was not slow to show me in other +ways that she regarded me as an intruder in the house, and if any one +thing about me was more preferable than another it was my room rather +than my company. Still as I kept out of her way as much as possible, and +as my sole duties consisted in keeping an eye on all strangers that +approached the place and in listening for any unaccountable sounds, I +came into conflict with her very seldom. + +Matters progressed so quietly for the next couple of days that I began +to wonder whether I had not fallen into a sinecure after all. Bryce had +procured me a decent outfit so that I was now my own man again, ready to +argue the right-of-way with all comers. Added to that my feet were well +on the mend and my general health was keeping pretty near to the +top-notch mark, so I wasn't finding life such a bad thing after all. +Bryce worried me but little. At times I went odd messages for him, but +all my trips were so arranged that I was never away from the house more +than half an hour at a time. The more I thought over the mystery +surrounding him the deeper and more inexplicable it became. I knew of +whom he was afraid, but I had no more idea of the reason of his fear +than I had of the name of the man in the moon. My occupation was more +reminiscent of revolutionary South America than of a civilised country, +and the thought of it set me wondering whether Bryce had ever lived +amongst the volatile Latins on the other side of the Pacific. Come to +think of it the one man I had seen closely had been a dark type. It was +just barely possible that Bryce had somehow tangled himself in something +of the kind. But then that cipher business--I was fully convinced by now +that it was some original kind of cryptogram--rather pointed the other +way. One of the things I had noticed had been a L sign, and anything +dealing with any of the Latin Republics would almost assuredly have been +written with a $ sign. Ultimately I came to the conclusion that I had +been barking up the wrong tree. + +I jotted down the figures that I remembered, but I must have had some of +the signs down wrong, for, try as I would, I could make nothing out of +them. As a matter of fact the solution was so simple that in the end I +only stumbled on it by accident. + +Bryce had a bad habit of locking himself in his room for hours at a +time, and it occurred to me that such a course wasn't in his own +interest any more than mine, so I tackled him about it at the first +opportunity. + +"Here you are," I said, "paying me for being a mixture of Swiss Guard +and watch-dog, but for all the looking-after you get I might as well be +miles away. I don't want to be hanging on to your skirts every ten +minutes or so, but doesn't it strike you as a reasonable man that you're +inviting trouble by locking yourself in so securely?" + +"I do that so I won't be disturbed," he urged. + +"That's a reason that cuts both ways," I said. "Suppose somebody +happened to be in the room when you arrived. Don't you see that he could +do all he wanted to do without being disturbed either." + +"But you'd hear any uncommon noise," Bryce objected. + +"Maybe I would and then maybe I wouldn't. I'm not infallible, you know, +and anyway it's quite possible that any visitor you had wouldn't make a +row at all. And while I'm on it, wouldn't it be just as well to give me +a sketch of the plot? I'm working in the dark as it is, but, if I had +some idea of what's at the back of all this, I might be able to look +after you better." + +"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said slowly, and for the first time +since we had met he eyed me with suspicion. There was doubt in his +glance, the sort of doubt that a man does not care to see in the eyes of +a friend. I saw that I had made a radical mistake in even hinting that I +wished to know his secret, and I hastened to make what amends I could. + +"I'm sorry," I said, "if you look at it in that way. I was only doing it +for your own good. You're paying what's an enormous sum to me, and I'm +trying to justify your expenditure. If I know your enemies and all about +them, I can certainly plan level and, maybe, occasionally outguess them. +That's the only thing I had in mind when I spoke, and if I gave you any +other impression I'm sorry I said what I did." + +He moved his shoulders in a kind of half-shrug. It was at once a gesture +of relief and of dismissal, so without more ado I said, "If there's +nothing further you want, I'll make off now. If you want me any time +I'll be pottering around the house somewhere." + +"Well, there is something I'd like you to do, Jim," he said. "I want +half-a-dozen parish maps. Here's the list of them"--he handed me a piece +of paper with a few names scribbled on the back--"and here's the money. +Go down to the Lands Department and they'll fix you up. Mind that they +are large scale maps, the largest they've got. You'd better take the +car, and don't be any longer than you can help." + +"It's a twenty minutes' run at the outside," I said. "I won't waste any +time." + +He nodded quite cheerfully to me and went into his room. I heard the key +grate in the lock as I walked down the passage and I remember saying to +myself, "That habit's going to get him into trouble yet." + +I reached the office in record time. They had some trouble in finding +the maps I wanted--most of them were of parishes situated around the +foot of the Grampians--but in the end they produced some that I fancied +would suit my man. My twenty minutes' limit had almost expired and, as +it is a matter of pride with me to be punctual, I let the car out a +little. That, I suppose, was my undoing, for just as I crossed over the +busiest street a motor-lorry swerved out and nearly collided with me. I +did some very neat wheel-work, but my new course took me right across to +the gutter, and before I had quite realised what had happened I had +speared my tyre with a jagged piece of glass. The tyre popped off with a +report like that of a small revolver, and the next second I was bumping +on the frame. I pulled up as quickly as I could, but the mischief was +done and the tyre was just one great rip from end to end. Luckily I +carried a spare wheel, but I am an unhandy man at the merely mechanical +part of the work, and I took twice as long over it as a professional +would have. By the time I was ready to start again my twenty minutes had +lengthened into an hour, and somehow the knowledge of that worried me. + +I packed my tools anyhow, hopped back into the car and threw over my +clutch. The car started with a little jerk that I didn't quite relish, +and on looking over the side I saw that the new wheel was wobbling, not +very much indeed, but just enough to show me that I had bungled my work. +I immediately cut down my speed and proceeded for the rest of the +journey at something closely approaching a snail's pace. + +"Now," I said to myself, "if this was in a novel I'd say that the lorry +cut across my path deliberately. But as this is in real life and the +lorry belongs to a firm of respectable grocers it can't be anything else +but just my own darned bad luck." + +I dismissed the incident at that and turned my attention to my driving. +I had no intention of mixing myself up in another such accident if I +could possibly avoid it, and now that I had definitely taken service +with Bryce I felt I owed it to him to exercise all reasonable care. +After my first few spasmodic attempts at resistance I had succumbed +rather quickly to his enticing offer. After all, I thought, I wouldn't +be putting myself in any greater danger than I had been in for the past +four years. I had faced sudden death in many shapes and forms during my +sojourn in the strange wild lands about the Line, so much so that, once +I had taken into account the money Bryce was giving me, the present +adventure rather degenerated into a pleasant little game of +hide-and-seek. + +I was still turning this over in that portion of my mind which wasn't +occupied with the sheerly mechanical side of my work when I reached the +house. More from force of habit than from any other cause I cast my eyes +along the road, much as if it had been a forest trail that held secrets +only a woodsman could read. Plainly marked in the dust of the roadway +were the tracks of a vehicle that I instinctively knew to be a cab. It +had veered right in towards the kerb, and a moment's study convinced me +that it had stopped at Bryce's house. Now that meant that somebody had +arrived during my absence, and, as Bryce had said nothing to me about +expecting a visitor, I decided that the sooner I entered the house and +investigated the better for the safety of all concerned. I drove the car +into the garage in record time and darted into the house as if the devil +were at my heels. There wasn't a sound to be heard; even the eternal +clatter of the typewriter had ceased. With a caution born of experience +I tip-toed up the passage, all my senses instinctively on the alert. The +door of Bryce's room was still locked and everything, to all outward +seeming, was just as I had left it. I don't know what I had expected to +find in the passage, but the very apparent quietness of the place +sobered me considerably, and I realised abruptly on what a slender +foundation I had based my fears. If anything had happened during my +absence it was almost certain that I would have found some trace of it +in the hall, a rug disarranged, or a mat kicked away from the door. All +the odds were on Bryce working quietly behind the locked door. Yet of +all the foolish things in the world for me to think of the idea that +entered my mind just then was that something that concerned me very +intimately was being worked out in the room across the passage. + +I made one step forward and then I stopped abruptly. Some one else than +Bryce was in the room. Out of the silence came a voice, a woman's voice. +It was smooth and well-modulated, and there was the faintest touch of +music in it. In some curious way it touched a stray chord in my memory. +I knew at once that I had heard it before, but how or where I could no +more say than I could fly. Perhaps that was because its full notes were +muffled by the door that intervened. + +"I'd do anything," the woman said in the quietest tones imaginable, +"anything but that. You don't understand. If you knew all the +circumstances, if you knew just how and why we parted you wouldn't ask +me. I'm sorry for it all now, more sorry than you could believe, but you +can't expect me to take up things just where they left off--as if +nothing had happened." + +"Bryce's got a little romance tucked away up his sleeve," I thought. +"This sort of complicates matters. Wonder who the lady is?" + +"My dear girl," came the reply in Bryce's tones, softer and more +persuasive than I had ever heard them, "I know more perhaps than you +think. I'm doing this out of the fullness of my knowledge in the hope +that when I'm gone...." + +"Don't!" the woman interrupted sharply. "Don't talk like that!" + +"It's one of the things we've got to face," Bryce said gently. "I won't +live for ever anyway, and you know as well as I do just what chance I +run of having a period put to me ... any time now." The last three words +were spoken very slowly and distinctly, as if Bryce wished them to sink +into the mind of his companion. "You're the only person in the world +that I care a hang about," he continued with a note of indescribable +pathos in his voice, "and I'm doing all this for you ... and him." + +"But I tell you," the girl said with a little flash of anger, "I tell +you I won't have anything to do with him. If you bring him to the house +I'll cut him dead." + +"And put yourself doubly in the wrong and make it all the harder for +everybody," Bryce told her. + +There was a dogged note in the girl's voice as she replied. "I know I +was wrong, but I just can't do what you want. I can't say more than +that." + +"I'm sorry you look at things that way," Bryce said. "I had hoped...." I +did not catch the nature of his hope, for his voice dropped an octave or +so and his sentence ended in whispers. + +"Jimmy Carstairs," I said to myself, "you've been eavesdropping and you +know it. You mustn't be caught doing those kind of things. Get out of +the way as fast as you can," and at that I twisted round on my heel and +went back down the hall. I hadn't any desire to be caught listening to +conversations that were obviously not intended for me and that anyway +weren't of the least interest. So you can be sure that when I did return +up the hall I walked fairly heavily and coughed discreetly as soon as I +was within hearing distance of Bryce's room. + +The key turned in the lock of a sudden and the door was flung wide open. +The girl stood in her own light so that the shadows masked her face, but +the sun fell full on mine and my features must have been clearly visible +to her. + +"You!" she said, with a little catch in her voice. + +"Shut the door, please," I said, in the most matter-of-fact tones I +could muster. "Shut the door and come out here." + +I knew her now. God! Could I ever forget her? In a flash my mind flew +back through four years--or was it five?--to that evening when she had +caused my little world to rock and tremble, and then to fall in pieces +at my feet. I had loved her then--I thought I loved her more than +anything or anyone in this world--but a dying father's wish had come +between us. The poor old Dad had made a life study of the Islands--how +monumental a study it was let his three volumes of Solomon Island +Ethnology bear witness--yet he died before he had quite completed his +notes. Though he had said nothing to me I knew the wish that lay nearest +his heart, and I made his dying hour almost the happiest of his life by +promising to carry on his work. + +I remember the night I came out to tell her. The sky was streaked with +dead gold and cerise and warm-tinted clouds trailed across the heavens +like the ends of a scarf streaming from the neck of a hurrying woman. +All the world was gay that evening and I whistled as I went. She was +waiting at the gate as always she had waited for me. She greeted me with +a smile and some bright little remark that I forgot practically the +instant it was uttered. + +"I want to talk to you," I said; "I want to talk seriously." + +She smiled up at me, a trusting little smile as I thought. She had no +idea what was coming, but she always gave me my head in the things that +do not matter much. + +"What is it, Jim?" she asked. + +"It's this," I said, and then I told what I had promised. + +"But that," she protested, "means burying yourself in New Guinea and the +Solomons for four whole years." + +"It does," I said. "There is no other way." + +I had not been looking at her face--there had been no need, for I was +quite convinced that she would see things in a proper light--but now I +turned on her. To my surprise there was just the least little touch of +annoyance in her face. + +"You don't quite relish the idea," I said. + +"It's a very foolish idea," she said quite frankly. "I don't know what +you could have been thinking of." + +"I was thinking of my father," I told her. "I was making his last hour +happy, and he died in the knowledge that I would carry his work on to +the conclusion he had planned." + +"Are you going to see it through?" The abruptness of the question took +me aback. + +"Of course," I said. "What else could I do?" + +"Four years!" she said. "What is to become of me?" + +"The time will soon go by," I answered, "and then I'll come back to you +and everything will be right." + +"You seem to think of everyone but me," she said hotly. "You promised so +that your father would die easy, and that's the end of it. If you are +going to be bound by such a thing as that you're nothing more than an +impractical idealist." + +"I passed my word and a Carstairs never breaks a promise." + +"You mean that, Jim? You mean that you are going away to ... carry out +that absurd promise?" + +"It's not absurd," I declared. + +"I think it is," she said wilfully. "If you go, you need never come +back." + +"I am going," I said steadily. "As an honorable man there is no other +course open to me. I'm sorry that you look at it this way, but I can't +do anything else." + +"At last I know how much you think of me," she said with that little +touch of anger with which a woman always defends the indefensible. "You +never did care for me." + +"I do, I do," I protested. "Can't you see it?" + +"I can't see anything," she said stubbornly, "except that you'd do this +rather than listen to me. It shows all you think of me. Oh, I hate you! +I never, never want to see you again!" + +"Is that your last word?" I demanded. + +"Absolutely my last," she answered firmly. + +"Well," I said, "here's my last too. I'm going to carry out my promise, +and if a man had spoken to me about it as you have spoken to me to-night +I would have pulped his face." + +"I really believe you would," she said exasperatingly. "You see, Jim, +you were always something of a savage. That, I suppose, is why you are +so anxious to go to the Islands ... where the savages are." + +That was the very last word she had said to me, for the next moment the +gate was banged behind her and shut me out of her life. I was hurt, +badly hurt in my self-esteem, but my rising anger, burning hot within +me, kept me from feeling as bad as I might have felt. In two months' +time I landed at Tulagi on Florida Island, and for the next four years +or so the civilised world knew me not. I reached finality, but I spent +my fortune and came back to Australia to all intents and purposes a +pauper. Four years...! Here she was facing me at last--just as if +nothing had ever come between us. + +"Yes, it's me," I said ungrammatically. "Why?" + +She raised her hand to her throat with a queer little gesture. "I didn't +quite expect to see you ... yet," she said. + +"It's the unexpected that happens," I remarked. "I've come back at last, +though in slightly different circumstances." + +"I know, Jim. I've heard." + +"He told you," I suggested, and nodded towards the door she had just +closed. + +"How do you know that?" she asked quickly. + +"It is my business to know things," I told her. "I'm a professional +caretaker of secrets now." + +She looked at me blankly and I saw that he had not told her everything. +It behoved me to play the game warily until I was sure of my ground. + +"What are you doing here, Moira?" I asked her point-blank. + +"That's a question I could ask you," she countered. "But I am here, not +from any desire to meet you--I didn't know you were here--but because he +sent for me." + +"And why should he send for you?" I persisted. + +There was just the faintest flicker of a smile moving about her lips +now; she had turned a little and the light was playing on her face. + +"For just the simplest reason in the world. He wanted me." + +"Why should he want you?" I demanded. + +She looked at me a moment as if astonished that I should ask such a +question. But there was that in my eyes which told her that my ignorance +was anything but assumed. + +"You really mean to say you don't know?" she asked incredulously. + +"If I did know I wouldn't question you about it," I said shortly. "What +is the reason?" + +"Well, you see," she answered lightly, with just a slight uplift of her +eyebrows--an old theatrical trick that I used to admire in the days gone +by--"he happens to be my uncle." + +"That puts another complexion on matters," I said half to myself. But +her quick ear caught the drift of my remark and she was down on me like +the wolf on the fold. + +"You're in with him, are you?" she questioned, with that devouring flame +I knew so well flaring up in her golden-brown eyes. "You're in with +him ... in this?" + +In a way I wasn't. As a matter-of-fact I suspected from her last words +that she knew more about everything than I did, but I was perfectly sure +that she wouldn't believe me if I denied it, so I said instead, "Yes, I +am." + +"I might have known it," she said with a little shake of her head. I +didn't quite follow her logic, but I judged it best to let it pass. One +would think from the way she spoke that there was something +reprehensible in being mixed up in anything conducted by her venerable +relative. I wondered why. + +"Yes, you might have known it," I said, falling in with her own humor. +"I have a habit of doing things I shouldn't." + +I knew she understood my veiled allusion, for I saw her bite her lip and +again the lambent flame leaped up in her eyes. But it died as suddenly +as it had come, and in another instant the old tantalising smile was +playing about the corners of her mouth. In the smoky interminable depths +of the Solomon Island jungle I had crushed that smile out of my life, +for ever I had thought. I had deliberately erased it from my memory, and +at night beside the smudge fire, when my eyes closed for an instant and +that beautiful imperious face peeped at me from out of the mazes of +recollection, I would open my eyes and stared fixedly at the misshapen +headhunters who were my sole companions in that wilderness. "These," I +would say, "are the kindred of us both. Their women smile as she smiles, +and the men respond to it as I used to respond." And with that thought +in my head I would fall asleep and not dream. + +"Jim," she said with abrupt irrelevance, "you've changed. You usen't to +be like that before. You're different somehow ... cynical, I think." + +"That's more than likely," I agreed. "I'm learning to hit back. And now +if you'll excuse me," I ran on before she had time to answer, "I'll just +drop in with this parcel." + +Then without more ado I turned on my heel and knocked at Bryce's door. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE THIEF IN THE NIGHT. + + +"I've got those maps you wanted," I remarked as Bryce opened the door, +"and I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." + +"You haven't," he said with a smile. "As a matter-of-fact I've been +otherwise occupied. I've had a visitor." + +"A visitor?" I said guardedly, though what on earth there was to guard +against was more than I could have said just then. Some cross-grained +streak in my nature made me both cantankerous and suspicious, and while +the mood was on me I would have contradicted or queried the word of an +archangel. + +"Yes," Bryce replied. "The lady you met in the passage. I gather that +she knows you." + +"We knew each other years ago," I said shortly. In a flash the meaning +of the conversation I had overheard burst on me. I began to perceive +that her presence in the house was due in part at least to me. Well, if +he fancied he was going to patch up our old love affair he had +undertaken a bigger job than he thought. For two pins I would have told +him, had he uttered another word, that there was one matter in which I +would brook no man's interference, and that even the ties that bound him +to my father were not strong enough to allow him to settle what was +nobody's affair but mine. But, with even greater tact than I believed he +possessed, he switched the conversation on to quite another subject and +talked to me for the better part of half-an-hour about the maps I had +brought. + +He had the formation of the country and its industries at his fingers' +ends, and he spoke like a man who had gained his information at +first-hand. I listened attentively, for I guessed in some queer fashion +of my own that the maps and that foolish cryptogram, the shooting on the +beach and the piece of driftwood were all somehow connected. But either +I must have missed some very obvious point or else he picked his words +so carefully that he misled me. + +I used my eyes for all they were worth, which wasn't much. The +typewriter stood on the table in its old position, and the table itself +was littered with sheets of typed figures. "More timber measurements," I +said to myself. Somehow the sight of those sheets troubled me. They were +innocent-looking enough in all conscience, and I couldn't for the life +of me understand why they should have this peculiar effect on me. I felt +as if a cold gust of wind, the icy breath of Death himself, had passed +and touched me in the passing. I flatter myself that I have pretty +strong nerves--the Lord knows they've been tested often enough--but +there was something in the atmosphere of that room, something in the +sight of those littered sheets of paper, that sent a cold shiver through +me, that made me want to rush from the place into the golden sunshine +out of doors. It was a presentiment, but one that could not be +localised. It did not appear to be one that could be shared either, for +Bryce still talked on in his own quaint way, apparently unaffected by +the strange influence which so troubled me. + +At last he rose and proceeded to gather up the disordered papers on the +table. I rose too, and with a careless "So long," was making for the +door when he stopped me with a question. + +"I suppose," he asked, "that you haven't seen anything lately of our +inquisitive friends?" + +"The Roman sentry and the gentleman with the hardware and the smashed +wrist?" I answered his question with one of mine. + +He smiled at my description and the laughter-lines about his mouth +creased into a myriad wrinkles. "You have them exactly," he remarked. + +"No, I haven't seen them," I said. "They seem to have disappeared into +nothingness." + +Curiously enough the news, instead of pleasing, seemed to disappoint +him. "They evidently mean business," he said in a semi-undertone. It +seemed almost as if he was speaking his thoughts out aloud. + +He glanced up at me with brooding eyes and brows drawn close together. +"We'll hear from them presently," he murmured, "and then the end won't +be far away." + +"Cheer up," I said hastily, "They've got a long way to go yet, and I +don't think they'll find me altogether pleasant to deal with." + +"If you knew all about it," he said, and then he hesitated. For just the +fraction of a second he trembled on the point of divulging everything, +and then his old cautiousness re-asserted itself and the impulse died +away. + +"That'll be all," he said briskly. "Just keep your eyes and your ears +open, Jim, and, as you say, we'll beat them yet." + +But I rather fancied from his tone that he meant that last sentence the +other way about. + + * * * * * + +I came awake instantly. The noise that had awakened me still echoed in +my ears and, though I could not put a name to it, I could have sworn +that it came from the room where Bryce did his typing. It was a very +faint noise, not the kind to bring a heavy sleeper instantly awake. But +my nerves work like a hair-trigger, and the almost noiseless pad of a +cat across the room at night is sufficient to rouse me. What I had heard +had been so faint that a less matter-of-fact man might have imagined +that he had dreamt it. But I knew better. I don't dream. + +The obvious thing was to slip out of bed at once and investigate. I +didn't. I knew a trick worth two of that. I sat up and listened. It +might be a wandering tabby that had blundered into a piece of furniture; +perhaps the window had creaked; it might be any one of half a hundred +things. If there was an intruder in the house I felt certain that +presently I would hear something more. No man, no matter how careful he +be, can move with a complete absence of sound. + +Five minutes passed, ten, a quarter of an hour. Nothing happened. And +then, just as I was beginning to despair, I heard it again. It was a +little plainer this time. Somebody had scraped a chair across the floor +and it had creaked slightly. + +That was more than enough for me. I slipped out of bed, but I did not +hurry. Many a man with the prize almost within his grasp has lost it +simply because he has rushed at it with his eyes shut. I didn't dawdle, +but I said to myself, "The more haste the less speed, Jim," and +accordingly I took my time. Of course if I had fancied that there was +one chance in a hundred of the man getting away, I would have been on +the spot like a shot, but I guessed from what I had heard that the +visitor was in no hurry, and certainly hadn't the faintest suspicion +that anyone in the house was aware of his presence. I got my clothes on +somehow and took a grip of my long Colt by the barrel end. I didn't want +to shoot unless there was no other way out of it, and anyway a +revolver-shot kicks up such an infernal racket inside a house and brings +on the scene quite a number of people who'd be better at home and in +bed. + +I slunk down the passage like a shadow, walking as if I were treading on +eggs. Very softly I tried the door. To my disgust it was locked. Now the +only time Bryce ever locked it was when he was at work inside, so I knew +that my man was still within reach. As if to make assurance doubly sure +I caught, as I stepped back, the faint gleam of a pencil of light from +under the doorway. + +The position as I summed it up was this:--The intruder had entered +through the door and had quietly locked it behind him. That would have +been the first noise I had heard. Then he had hunted about for whatever +he wanted and, once it had been found, he had drawn the chair up to the +table and settled down to a prolonged study of the matter. That would +explain the two sounds. Now as my man had come in through the door he +was almost certain to go out the same way and, in the interests of peace +and quiet, the proper course to take was to sit down and wait until he +decided to come out. + +I can't say how long I waited there. It seemed like hours, but of course +at the outside it could not have been many minutes. I would dearly have +liked to smoke, but I rather fancied that the other man's nose would be +sure to scent me out. Also a scrape of a match in a still house at the +dead of night sounds like a bomb-explosion. So I just squatted down on +my heels and cursed my man under my breath. I was in deadly fear most of +the time that he would make a noise of some kind and bring the other +inhabitants down about my ears. He was my meat, and I meant to eat him +myself. + +At length the pencil of light went out. Somebody moved stealthily across +the room and the key turned softly in the lock. I balanced the gun in my +hand and got ready to swing. It was pitch-dark in the hall and I could +not see an inch in front of me, but I had my fingers right up against +the jamb of the door and I could feel it opening. The man was breathing +with a barely perceptible wheeze and, if I had not been listening for +something of the kind, I might have missed it altogether. But it was +quite loud enough for me to position the fellow, and the next instant I +flopped out of the darkness on to him. He gave a surprised little gasp, +a sort of sizzling like the air escaping out of a punctured tyre, and +went down on the mat underneath me. I had taken him so completely off +his guard that there was no need for me to use my gun. I got one hand on +his throat in the most approved style of the garrotte and just pressed. +He wriggled a little at first, but I kept up the same even pressure, and +presently he went limp. I knew then that he was harmless for the next +ten minutes, so I released my hold, slipped my useless Colt into my +pocket, and made to stand up. But at that precise moment the electric +light in the hall went on, and a silvery voice said, "Hands up, please!" + +In the astonishment of the moment I shot my hands heavenwards and turned +round to view the new arrival. It was just as I thought. Moira had +blundered into my little surprise party, and she was doing her level +best to annex all the honors for herself. She was standing with one hand +on the light switch and the other held Bryce's automatic. Her face was +very pale, and the hand that held the revolver wasn't quite as steady as +I could have wished. She blinked a little at me--her eyes seemed blinded +by the sudden radiance--and I don't think she recognised me for the +moment, so much do one's ordinary clothes make the man. + +It was clearly up to me to disillusion her and persuade her either to +put down the revolver or hold it in a way less calculated to alarm the +peaceful public. + +"You'd better put down that infernal thing, Moira," I said calmly, "or +you'll be doing someone damage. The mere sight of you makes me nervous, +Diana." + +There was a studied insult in the last word, but I think somehow she +must have missed it in the excitement of the moment, for she lowered her +gun and ran towards me. + +"Oh, it's you!" she cried surprisedly. + +"It's me," I said dourly, and I dropped my hands into a more convenient +position. "In fact it's so much me that I'd be obliged if you'd keep +quiet for a while and help me look after this gentleman on the floor. I +want to examine him, and I don't think I'll be able to do it in comfort +if you wake the rest of the family." + +"Who is he?" she asked, showing by the subdued note of her voice that +she had taken my warning to heart. + +"That's more than I can say," I answered. "I discovered him in the room +there, and when he came out I promptly sat on him." + +"But what did he want?" + +"If one can judge anything from his present attitude, he came to study +the pattern of the carpet, Moira." + +"Be serious, Jim, please." + +"I couldn't if I tried," I said, rising to my feet. "It's too much like +hard work. But let's look at the captive, Diana." + +This time the shot went home, and in a way I was glad. I had four years' +arrears to make up yet. It was not a very manly thing to do, I know--it +certainly wasn't at all gentlemanly--but it gave me a deuce of a lot of +satisfaction, and that's about all I can say in defence. She looked up +at me with both hurt and contempt in her eyes, but I was far too +engrossed in the business in hand to give her more than passing notice. +When I came to think it over in calmer moments I realised that, despite +all that had happened, the girl was just as much in love with me as ever +she had been. + +The fellow was young, at the most he could not have been more than +twenty-four or five, and I saw instantly that he was the man I had +called the Roman sentry--the chap who had been spying on the house the +day Bryce had driven me home from the Heads. The life wasn't crushed out +of him by any means; even as I examined him he stirred a little and his +eyes opened. They were nice black eyes, the sort that brim over with +humor, yet way at the back of them I caught a glimpse of something else. +It was a queer mixture of anger and determination, and I saw just +sufficient of it to warn me to take no unnecessary risks. Save for that +first spasmodic movement he lay perfectly still, those black eyes of his +laughing up at me and challenging. Somehow they filled me with a curious +sense of unrest, a feeling as if everything that made life safe and +secure was slipping away from me. I did not speak a word, however, but +gave him back look for look, striving with my eyes to beat down the +challenge I read in his. They said as plainly as so many words, "I'm the +better man, and I'll beat you yet. Try and see if I don't." + +"What are you doing here?" I demanded at length, seeing that one of us +must speak, and he seemed the less likely. + +"If I told you I was a somnambulist you wouldn't believe me, would you?" +he replied. + +"I wouldn't," I said tersely. + +"I'm not, anyway," he continued, with those infernally self-possessed +eyes daring me ... daring me what? + +"You've got to explain what you were doing in that room," I threatened. +"The sooner you tell me the better it'll be for you." + +"It's no use talking like that, my friend," he said. "You won't get a +word more out of me than I wish, and while I think of it you'd better +call in the police at once and have done with it." + +It was the first time that the idea of the police had occurred to me, +and, now I came to think of it, it wasn't too acceptable. Without +knowing much about it, I surmised that the less Bryce had to do with the +police the better he'd be pleased, that is if I could base anything on +the way he had behaved that morning on the beach. As it was Moira seemed +to have much the same idea as myself, or perhaps she spoke from superior +knowledge. + +"Don't call the police in, Jim," she said in a quick whisper. "You +mustn't do that. It'd be better to let him go." + +I shook my head. "I don't want to let him go," I said, "but if you don't +want to make an example of him, I don't see what else there is for it. +I'll have a word with him first, at any rate, and see what I can make +out of him." + +"Be careful, Jim," she whispered, all the strain and anger occasioned by +my ill-timed insult disappearing in her anxiety for my welfare. + +I ignored her admonition, more because I could think of no suitable +reply than for any other reason, and addressed myself to the captive. + +"Get up," I said. "You and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart +talk." + +He made no effort to rise, so I leaned over and hauled him up by the +collar. By the feel of him he was some forty pounds lighter than I, and +I made a mental note of that in case we had a scrimmage on the way. +Weight counts a good deal in a rough-and-tumble. I got a good neck-hold +on him, and then I turned to Moira. "You'd better get back to bed and +forget," I said. "I'll deal with this smart Alec here." + +I did not wait to see if she took my advice, but I prodded my captive +with my free hand. "Jog along, Eliza," I said. "Straight down the hall, +and don't try any monkey tricks." + +He went quietly enough; if I had had my wits about me I would have had +my suspicions aroused by that same fact. I was flushed with victory, +and, what was even more pleasant, I was acting to an impressionable +audience. I was sure that Moira could not fail to appreciate the +neatness with which I had conducted the whole affair, and, though I kept +telling myself that I did not care a hang for her, I hadn't the faintest +objection to showing off before her. On the contrary. That, in part at +least, was the cause of my undoing. + +The hall ended in a big French window that opened out on to the back +verandah. It was very seldom used, indeed I had never seen it opened, +but there it was with glass all the way to the floor. When I marched my +prisoner down the hall I had some vague idea of taking him out on to the +verandah and inducing him to tell me what he had come for. But the man +had other plans maturing, and when we were just about six or seven feet +away from the window he gave a little twist and a wriggle and slipped +out of my hands as if he had been an eel. Then, before I had quite +recovered sufficiently to make a grab at the empty air, he hurled +himself against the window. It was one of those foolhardy things that +succeed just because of the sheer, daring recklessness of the man who +carries them through. He swept through the glass with a splintering +crash that must have been audible for half-a-block away, and then, while +the falling pieces still tinkled on the floor, he placed his hand on the +verandah rail and vaulted to the ground. I drew my revolver at once--I +had been pulling it out of my pocket even as I ran down the hall--and +took a flying shot at him. But in the hurry of the moment I missed, and +I padded out on to the verandah through the splintered window just in +time to see him scaling the back fence with the practised ease of the +family tabby. + +I did not attempt to follow him. I knew the uselessness of such a +proceeding. Just for the fraction of a second his hurrying silhouette +had shown on the top of the fence, and then it had melted into the +surrounding shadows of the dawn with a silence and celerity which, more +than anything else, told me how difficult it would be to trace him. + +I turned on my heel, only to find that the lights were blazing up in +practically every room, and Moira, Bryce and the servants were gathered +in a huddled, indecisive group just inside the window. Most of them +looked startled. Bryce had been a little shaken, but his self-possession +was rapidly returning. Moira, indeed, was the only one who faced me with +anything like calmness in her face. + +"You'd better all get back to bed," I said, seeing that someone had to +take the initiative. "It's nothing very much, nothing to worry you at +any rate." + +"Yes, you'd better go back," Bryce said, seconding my remarks. "There's +nothing doing." + +The servants moved away one by one, leaving the three of us together. +For quite a minute Bryce eyed the revolver that I still held in my hand, +then his glance travelled to the shattered window, and, completing the +circle, came to rest on me again. + +"Well?" he queried, with intense interest in his voice. I knew what that +monosyllable meant. It was a request for a detailed account of the +events of that night. Seeing that there was nothing to be gained by +withholding anything, I plunged into the tale and related everything +just as it had happened. + +"So he got away from you?" he remarked when I had finished. + +"He did," I said emphatically. + +"That's about the best thing he could have done," Bryce ran on. "I don't +know what we could have done with him if we had kept him." + +"'He who fights and runs away will live to fight another day,'" I +reminded him. + +"That other day is a matter for the future," he answered. "We'd better +see what he took though. Come on." + +He turned on his heel and led the way to his study just as the first +rays of the rising sun crept up over the distant hills. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. + + +The room was much as we had left it the evening before. The typed papers +had disappeared, but a sheet which I recognised as the one I had picked +up from the kitchen floor the day of my arrival lay on the table in full +view. Beside it was the clean blotting pad that I had never yet seen +used. Bryce took no notice of the sheet of figures, but lifted the pad +up, and, drawing a magnifying glass from his pocket, ran his eyes over +the rough white surface. Moira and I watched him with unfeigned +interest. At last he looked up. + +"Just as I thought," he remarked. "Have a look yourself, Jim." He handed +both glass and pad to me. I studied the latter for some seconds before I +quite dropped to what he meant. Gradually I made out figures impressed +on the rough surface. Our midnight visitor had made a copy of that +single sheet, had made it hurriedly in pencil, and the impression had +gone through on to the receptive softness of the blotting paper. My +scrutiny over, I handed the materials to Moira. + +"You understand?" Bryce queried, with little laughter-wrinkles about his +eyes. + +"I do," I said admiringly. "I don't know what the man was after, but he +didn't get it. He got a fake instead." + +Bryce nodded. "He's up a gum-tree instead of under one," he said +enigmatically. + +I made no answer to that, chiefly because it struck me that it was the +sort of remark that meant a good deal more than appeared on the surface. +I tucked it away in my memory, quite confident that sooner or later the +march of events would make it clear to me. As a matter of fact, if I +hadn't taken so much notice of that simple sentence, this story would +never have been written, for the key to everything was contained in that +casual remark. + +"Nothing else has been disturbed," Bryce announced, and included the +whole room in one comprehensive gesture. "I'm going back to bed for a +couple of hours. You young people can do just what you like." + +He hustled us out of the room, shut the door carefully behind us, and +went off to his room. Moira made no attempt to follow his example, but +stood in the passage with her deep golden-brown eyes fixed on me. There +was a look in them that I could not quite fathom; it whirled me back +through five years of sorrow and stress, brought me back to the days +when----. No, I wasn't going to think about it at all. It didn't bring +me back to anything; it brought nothing back to me. Yet I could not help +remarking that her eyes held solicitude for me and something that was +more than that. + +"Aren't you going back to rest?" I asked, and was surprised to note that +there was both interest and defiance in my voice. + +"I want to talk to you," she said, answering my question by inference. +"I want to talk seriously to you." + +So it was coming at last. She intended putting Bryce's advice into +execution. Perhaps she thought it was merely a matter of telling me that +she was sorry for what had occurred, and then everything would begin +again just where it had left off. If she thought so she was radically +mistaken. My love had been rejected and I had been wounded in my pride. +Through four long years of repression the knowledge had rankled in my +mind till now the very sight of her standing there and beseeching me +with her eyes was more than I could bear. I would not have been human +had I not felt the old wound pricking me again, and I certainly would +not have been a Carstairs had the mere sight of her apparent contrition +moved me to forgive her on the spot. I was quite willing to be friendly, +I told myself, but by nothing short of a miracle could we regain the old +footing. The worst of it was that something moved me to take her in my +arms then and there and kiss away the tears that were very near her +eyes. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Jim," she said tentatively. + +"There's no need to say anything, Moira." I tried to speak as kindly as +possible, but somehow I think I failed. "I happened to overhear you and +your uncle yesterday, and I know just what you mean. But, Moira, I don't +see how things can ever be the same again. It isn't as if it were +something I could forget. It isn't. It goes right down to the +fundamentals. If our love wouldn't stand the strain I put on it, it +wasn't worth having. I hate to have to speak to you like this, but, when +all's said and done, it's just as well to be frank first as last." + +She nodded with tight-closed lips. I saw that she was trying her hardest +to keep control of herself, and for a moment it was touch and go with +me. I very seldom set my mind to anything that I don't carry through, +and in this instance I had a very clear and definite plan outlined in my +mind. So I just set my teeth and carried it off as if nothing really +mattered very much. + +"You heard us yesterday then?" she said at length. She spoke so slowly +that she almost drawled her words. + +I nodded. + +"That's what you were doing then when I came out of the room?" + +"Exactly," I said. I fancied it would only make matters worse if I +explained everything in detail. + +"I was wrong, Jim, and I apologise," she said. There was a little gleam +of flame in her eyes that made me hang on her words. "I was wrong," she +repeated. "I said yesterday that you had changed, but I don't think you +have. You're just the same old Jim, a bit of a savage and just as +primitive as ever." + +"Thank you, Moira," I said. "I didn't expect it from you, but now I know +what to look for." + +"It is war then?" she said, with a little sparkle in her eyes. + +"War it is," I answered; "as the Spaniards say, 'Guerra al cuchillo.'" + +"Please translate," she requested. "I do not speak Spanish." + +"War to the knife," I said briskly. + +She half turned, then spoke to me over her shoulder. "I had hoped that +we would be allies," she said softly, and was gone before I could ask +her why. + +As was only to be expected, things were very quiet during the next few +days. Bryce went about his own affairs more openly than hitherto. With +the passing of our midnight visitor all fear of attack seemed to have +disappeared. He did not say as much to me, but in many little ways he +showed that he was much easier in his mind. I found that I had next to +nothing to do. He did not go out of his way now to find something to +keep me occupied. As a matter of fact, I saw very little of him and +practically nothing at all of Moira. + +I spent most of my time thinking. I went over everything that had +happened from the moment I sat down on the beach right down to the visit +of that interesting and entertaining gentleman who had made his exit +from the house in so unorthodox a manner. There was logic running right +through the piece; every little incident seemed to dovetail into the +others, yet, because I did not have the key, I could not read the +riddle. Why did the man on the beach fire at Bryce? I could not say. +Then just for amusement's sake I got a piece of paper and a pencil and +dotted down the items that wanted explaining. They ran somehow like +this:-- + +1. Why was Bryce shot at? + +2. Why was he being watched? + +3. What was the meaning of those figures I had seen? + +4. Why was Bryce so anxious to avoid publicity? + +5. Why did everybody seem satisfied when the burglar got away? + +6. What was the burglar after, and why was he apparently satisfied even +when he got the wrong figures? + +7. What did the piece of driftwood have to do with it, and what +connection was there between the wood and the typed figures? + +And, lastly, what was it all about, anyhow? + +Some of the items taken singly were quite susceptible of explanation, +but I could not put forward any solution that covered them in toto. So +eventually I gave it up, deciding that it wasn't my affair, and the less +I worried myself about what didn't concern me, the better. + + * * * * * + +The tragedy, coming as it did like a bolt out of a clear sky, so upset +everything that I really cannot say whether it was a week or ten days +later that it happened. But I do remember, with that accuracy of detail +that a man sometimes retains even when he is doubtful of essentials, the +various events of that evening. + +Immediately after tea Bryce rose from the table with the expressed +intention of going to his study. I recall that he remarked to Moira as +he passed her that everything was going along swimmingly, and that if he +had no further word during the next couple of days he would consider +that it was quite safe to try his luck. I didn't understand what he +meant, though he seemed to be referring in a general way to the late +burglary, if burglary it could be called. Moira was quite aware of the +drift of his remarks, for she asked him wouldn't it be better to let the +week elapse before he did anything. + +"We've waited too long," he said. "We should have got to work long +before. Too much time has been wasted already." Then he turned to me and +said casually, "Drop in and see me later on, Jim. I'll be working till +about ten." + +I told him that I'd be along very shortly, and then I went hunting for a +book to read. I found one at length, and I got so interested in it that +I did not notice time passing. I was brought back to reality by a quick +step in the passage, and I turned my head to view the newcomer. It was +only Moira on her way to the study. She went by me with her head in the +air, as if I did not exist. I recall taking out my watch and noting that +it was just a quarter-past-nine, and high time I went in and saw Bryce. +However, as Moira had got in ahead of me, and her business was probably +of a private nature, I decided to wait until I heard her come out again. + +I turned back to my book, but had scarcely found my place when I caught +the tinkle of breaking glass on woodwork, and practically at the same +instant there was a sharp "pop," as if someone had drawn a cork from a +bottle of some gaseous liquid. On the heels of that had come the single +whip-like crack of a revolver. I swung to my feet in an instant, and the +book dropped unheeded to the floor. During the last few days I had got +out of the habit of carrying my revolver, but for all that I made +straight for the study, and without the slightest ceremony turned the +handle. The door was not locked; it opened at my touch. I doubt if it +was even latched. + +If my long years of training in the hard school of experience have +brought me nothing else, they at least taught me to keep my head in just +such an emergency as this present one. It was well for me that I had my +nerves under complete control, for the sight that faced me was one that +I could not have pictured in even my wildest flights of fancy. Bryce was +slumped forward in his chair, his big head sunk on his chest. All the +color had fled from his face, leaving it ashen pale. The kind eyes that +used to sparkle so were glazed now in death, and squinted up at me +through the tangled mat of his eyebrows. The whiteness of his immaculate +shirt-front was defiled for the first and last time by the big blood +stain that showed how his life had ebbed away. But it was Moira most of +all who caught and held my attention. She was standing just a little to +the left of Bryce, her deep eyes wide with horror and a smoking revolver +still held in her white clenched hand. She was staring at Bryce and the +blood-stain on his shirt as if what she saw was too monstrous for +belief. + +"Moira Drummond," I said, in a hard, cold, emotionless voice that I +hardly recognised as mine, "put down that thing instantly." + +She turned her head at my words and regarded me dazedly for just the +fraction of a second. Then in an instant the revolver dropped from her +nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor, she swayed like a +willow-wand in the wind, and would have fallen had I not sprung to catch +her. She went limp in my arms. I did not need a second glance to tell me +that Bryce was dead, and that no one in this world could do anything for +him now. So, recognising that my first duty was to the living, I turned +my attention to Moira. She had merely fainted, and one or two simple +remedies brought her round very quickly. She opened her golden-brown +eyes and looked up into mine. The unaccustomed horror of what she had +just gone through had not yet died out of them; they held a plaintive, +pleading look that somehow went straight to my heart. + +"I didn't do it," she quavered. + +"Who said you did?" I asked. + +"The way you looked and spoke to me, Jim----" + +I stopped her with a gesture. "That's all right," I said consolingly. "I +wouldn't have thought so for a moment. But tell me just what happened." + +"That's more than I can," she said. "I was standing by him, talking, and +suddenly I heard the window glass smash and something went 'pop.' And +the next I knew uncle gave a little cry and his head fell forward on his +chest. The blood was welling up out of his wound, and I saw that he was +killed. His revolver was on the table, so I seized it and fired at the +window. I don't know whether I hit whoever fired, but I hope I did," she +concluded, with the faintest touch of forgivable viciousness in her +voice. + +It was only when she drew my attention to it that I remembered having +heard the glass break. The window had a great big star in the centre of +it with a myriad little cracks radiating from it like the spokes of a +wheel. + +Moira looked first at the window, then at the still figure sitting in +the chair. Finally she turned to me. + +"Jim, what are we to do?" she asked helplessly. + +"Well," I answered, seeing now that everything fell upon me, "we'll have +to get hold of a doctor. It's just for form's sake, you understand. He +won't be able to do anything. Then we'll have to ring up the police. +It's a blessing we've got the 'phone on, as I wouldn't care to leave you +by yourself now even for a moment. It's a wonder that none of the +servants heard the noise." + +"They're all out, Jim." + +"That's lucky in one way," I said. "Now, Moira, I want you to understand +that the safety of us both depends on how far you back me up. We can't +touch your uncle until the police come; there'd be trouble if we did. +I'm going to ring up now, and in the meantime you'd better find some of +your uncle's cartridges." + +"Why, Jim?" + +"I'll tell you when I come back," I said. "Just do as I tell you. There +should be some in the drawer of that table. Be careful how you get them +out; you don't want to have to touch anything more than you can help. +I'll leave the door open so I can see you from the 'phone. You won't be +frightened?" + +She shook her head, but her white face told me as plainly as so many +words that the sooner I came back the better. Accordingly I wasted no +further time, but turned on the hall light and took up the +telephone-book. For a wonder I had no difficulty in getting connected +with either the doctor or the police, and, once I had made my meaning +plain, I hung up and returned to Moira. + +"The police'll be here in ten minutes at the outside," I said. "I've got +just that time to make you word-perfect. You've got the cartridges? +Thanks. I only want one. Now listen. Your story's thin, it's so thin +that there's many a detective wouldn't believe it; but I'm not going to +give them a chance. I'm going to rig up things so that they'll look +right. What happened is this:--You and I were out in the next room, +reading if you like, when we heard a shot. We rushed in and found your +uncle just as he is now. We've no idea who shot him, and neither you nor +I fired a shot. When we find your uncle's revolver in the drawer with +its seven chambers undischarged we're going to be just as much at sea as +anybody else." + +"But I did fire a shot," she objected. "How can you get away from that?" + +"Easy. First of all I take out the discharged cylinder. Then I clean out +the gun. I mustn't forget to clean it out, because if I do and people +examine it, they'll see that it's been discharged, and they'll begin to +suspect. We mustn't leave the least ground for suspicion. Now, there's +the gun ready loaded in all its chambers and as clean as the day it came +out of the shop. Back it goes into the drawer, and it stays there until +the police find it. You understand just what you've to do now?" + +"I think I do, Jim. But, oh, you've got to help me all you can!" + +"I will that," I said in a sudden burst of cordiality. "I want you to +feel that you can rely on me right through. And if there's any questions +asked just let me do the answering, and if you're asked anything, why +just say the same as I do. You can't say anything else because we were +together all the night." + +"But, Jim, I don't see why we should have to deceive people like this. +Why is it necessary?" + +"Have you ever heard of the thing called circumstantial evidence, Moira? +You must remember that I heard a shot, and ran into the room just in +time to see you standing over your uncle with a smoking revolver. I know +what happened, but the police mightn't look at the matter in the same +light. There's plenty of other ways of explaining that broken window." + +"I suppose you know what's best," she said with a tired little sigh. +"But it all does seem so horrible. I wish I hadn't to lie so." + +"There's worse things than lying," I hinted. "It's a case of choosing +the lesser of two evils, and really, Moira, I think in his own peculiar +way your uncle trusted me." + +She nodded as if she could not trust herself to speak. + +Then came the sound of heavy footsteps on the verandah, and the +door-bell rang violently. + +"That's the police, very likely," I said in a quick whisper. "Just keep +your head and leave the rest to me." + +She said no word, but the pressure of her hand on mine told me more than +hours of speech. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +I TELL A LIE. + + +The police had brought the divisional surgeon with them, and he made his +brief examination while the sergeant questioned Moira and myself. My +story was the simple one that I had outlined, and I must say that Moira +played up well to my lead. She was naturally upset at what she had gone +through, and the sergeant, I fancy, made allowance for this, and +attributed any trifling discrepancies between our two stories to this +fact. He was one of the politest officials it has ever been my lot to +deal with, and he carried out his duties in a way that made me his +debtor for life. I was not as shocked by the occurrence as I might have +been. I had seen far too much of the rough side of life and the sudden +side of death to have any other feeling than a rather natural sorrow at +losing a man who had been something more than a benefactor to me; but I +did not make the radical mistake of treating Bryce's death too lightly. +I rather flatter myself that I mixed my sorrow and my common sense in +just the right proportions. It was different with Moira; she was +genuinely distressed, and made no effort to conceal it. It was the first +time for many years that I had seen her so unaffected, and natural, and +I must say that the sight brought out all that was best in me. + +The sergeant took our names and then began a close personal questioning. +He enquired into my past life, asked me how long I had been with Bryce, +and then bluntly demanded to know in what capacity I was staying in the +house. + +"Mr. Bryce," I said, "was an old friend of my father's, and naturally +there was always a welcome here for me." + +I picked my words carefully, because I was in mortal dread that some +stray remark might put him on to that affair on the beach. I knew that +if he once got wind of that everything was up with us, and our +hastily-built castle of cards would come tumbling to the ground. While I +was thinking of this it struck me all of a heap that there was a chance +of something leaking out about the burglar of the other day. The only +thing I could see was to make a clean breast of it. + +"I don't know whether this has got anything to do with the burglary the +other night," I said casually. + +"What's that?" the sergeant demanded. + +I repeated my remark. "This is the first I've heard of it," the man +said. "Why wasn't it reported before? It's over a week ago, you say." + +"About that," I agreed, "but it was reported. Mr. Bryce went down +himself to tell you." And here I looked warningly at Moira. She gave no +sign that she had noticed my glance, but somehow I felt that she quite +understood what was required of her. + +"I don't deny he might have come down," the man ran on, "but all the +same no report has reached us." + +"That's mighty curious," I said with assumed thoughtfulness. "Now I come +to think of it, it struck me at the time that you people hadn't followed +the matter up. I meant to ask Mr. Bryce about it, but the matter went +clean out of my mind, and it was just this moment that I recollected it. +It does seem a bit of a puzzler." + +"If you tell me all that happened, Mr. Carstairs," the sergeant +suggested, "it might help us a bit. There's something very like a motive +in this." + +I gave him a rather sketchy account of the night of the burglar's visit, +but, without actually giving a false description of the burglar himself, +I so drew him that he would be difficult to recognise. I was swayed by +cautiousness more than anything else at the moment, but I fancy that +deep down in my mind was a primitive longing to settle with the man +without having recourse to the law. At any rate no policeman in the +country would have arrested him on the description I gave. + +"It's a pity he got away," said the sergeant when I'd finished. "It +looks as if he's the man. What was taken, Mr. Carstairs?" + +"According to Mr. Bryce there wasn't anything even touched." + +"Looks as if Mr. Bryce had a past," the man said in a half-whisper meant +for my ears alone. + +I regarded the suggestion with alarm. "I don't see how that could be," I +told him. "I've known him for a good many years, and my father knew him +before that. But of course I've been in the Islands for close on to four +years, and something that I am unaware of may have occurred in that +time." + +"Just so," he agreed. "We'll see what Miss Drummond has to say." + +"Had your uncle any enemies that you know of?" she was asked. + +She answered the question with admirable adroitness. "My uncle was the +kindest of men," she said. "I can conceive of no reason why he should +have any enemies." + +I suppose our very apparent frankness threw the man off his guard, for +I'm perfectly satisfied that he could have tripped us up more than once +had he had the faintest suspicion that we were not telling the exact +truth. But we strove, rather successfully as it now appears, to twist +the truth to suit ourselves without actually telling a downright lie, +and we did it in a way that seemed to satisfy him, astute though he was. +I told him but one lie that evening, though as a matter of fact it was +much nearer the truth than anything else I had said, so strangely do +things fall out. + +"Miss Drummond is Mr. Bryce's niece, isn't she?" he asked. + +"That's right," I said, and Moira nodded. + +"Now let me see," he ran on, ticking off the points on his fingers, "you +are an old friend of the family's. That's correct, isn't it?" + +"That's so," I agreed. + +"Anything more?" + +"I don't quite understand you," I said, with the faintest doubt at the +back of my mind. He spoke as if he knew or suspected something more than +I had told him. + +He looked at Moira and then at me, and I saw that he was smiling. It was +just the sort of smile that one would expect from that portion of the +world that loves a lover. + +"Oh!" I said with a relief that I made no attempt to hide, "so you've +guessed it." + +"Guessed what?" Moira queried quickly, her face paling to a perceptible +degree. + +I turned to her with the cheeriest smile I could muster at the moment. +"He's guessed that we're engaged, Moira," I said. And the note of +exultation in my voice was more real than I had intended. + +"It's not the time to be rejoicing over such things," I rattled on, +"but--well, I suppose we're all young only once and we've got to make +the best of it." + +The sergeant was a gem of his kind, and even the nearness of a tragedy +and the rigidness of the rules that governed his daily life had not +crushed out of him that little touch of Nature that makes the whole +world kin. Thanks to the easiness of my manner and his own ready +stumbling into the trap I had not set for him, he now looked upon me as +nothing more than a love-sick youth with no eyes for anyone or anything +save the girl who occupied his heart. If the man could only have seen +what was in my mind, if by any chance he had overheard our conversation +on the morning of the burglary, how quickly he would have changed his +good opinion of us both. But luckily he was no mind-reader, and my +little piece of bluff achieved more success than was its due. + +"You needn't worry about anything," he said with an almost paternal note +in his voice. "We police have certain duties to carry out, but we're +human after all, and anything I can do as a man and a brother I'll be +only too pleased to have you ask." + +"Thank you," I said, with gratitude that was less than half feigned. + +The divisional surgeon gave it as his opinion that death had been +practically instantaneous. The bullet had entered the wall of the chest +a little too close to the heart to be pleasant. The doctor did tell me +just what else had happened, but either he did not make himself clear or +I have forgotten it. + +Presently a couple of the police who had been put on the trail of the +fugitive returned and reported nothing doing. The garden just outside +the window was a good deal trampled about, and there were footmarks in +plenty on the soft soil, but, as the sergeant remarked, "Footmarks are +like finger prints--they're no use unless you know who made them." All +things considered, it looked as if our man had got clean away again. I +had a fancy that neither Moira nor I had seen the last of him. Standing +there in the very room that had witnessed the tragedy, with the body of +the murdered man hanging limply in the chair, the lifeless clay scarcely +yet cold, it came to me with something of the clearness of prophecy that +this was not the end but the beginning of the play. It was something +closely akin to second sight, and for the moment the spaciousness of the +vision that I saw but dimly thrilled me with its possibilities. I knew, +though how I knew I cannot say even at this distant date, that the calm, +silent policemen with their helmets in their hands, the earnest, +energetic divisional surgeon, and his confrere the sergeant, even the +dead man himself, were but the merest supers in the prelude to +adventure. Moira and I were the only ones who were real, the only actors +that were something more than mummers. Yet even I failed to see that +what had happened that night was something more than a queer insoluble +mystery. There was nothing in my experience to tell me that it was +vitally connected with the early history of Victoria, that it had its +being in the now far-off days before Australia became a nation. I think +if any supernatural whisper of the truth had reached me that I would not +have been surprised, but that is the most that I can say. + +I came back abruptly to reality to find a cold wind blowing in through +the crack in the window. The doctor and the two policemen between them +were lifting Bryce out of the chair he would never more occupy, and I, +with my profounder knowledge of death and its consequences, saw just +what they were going to do. + +"I think I'd better take Miss Drummond outside for the present," I +whispered to the sergeant. The man nodded, and, taking Moira by the arm, +I led her from the room. + +"It would be better if you could go to bed," I suggested. + +She shook her head wearily. "I can't, Jim. It's no good trying to +persuade me. I just couldn't." + +"I think I understand," I said softly. + +"I don't feel sorry a bit, Jim. I know it's a strange thing to say, but +it's the truth, and there it is. I couldn't summon a tear. But just +inside me there's a vacancy, a sense of loss. He's gone out of my life, +and I'll never meet anyone who'll quite take his place. I can't put what +I mean into so many words, but I think you can understand. You're quick +at understanding, Jim. I don't feel sorry a bit, and I don't want to +cry, somehow; but I'll miss him dreadfully. I'm hard in some ways, Jim. +I must be terribly devoid of affection." + +I made no answer to that. My thoughts were on one summer's evening +four--or was it five?--years ago, and in the light of what had happened +then I could scarcely contradict her now. + +"I'm sorry," I said abruptly, "that I had to tell that lie about our +being engaged. But I had to be as natural as I could, and the more +obvious an explanation I gave the better for us all." + +She looked at me for a moment with unutterable things in the depths of +her golden-brown eyes. + +"I'm sorry," she said slowly, "that you had to tell a lie." + +I took her remark as the natural corollary of mine, but some +sub-conscious sense in me insisted that its very ambiguity was designed. + +Almost at that moment I heard footsteps in the hall, and knew that the +servants had just come home. The big clock in the hall chimed ten. + +"There's the women," I said. "You'd better tell them, and see they don't +make a scene." + +Moira nodded and went down the hall to meet them. + +There is little more to relate of this phase of my story. Naturally +there was an inquest, and just as naturally was a verdict returned of +"death at the hands of a person or persons unknown," or words to that +effect. The situation, in fine, was that Bryce was dead and buried, and +the police admitted that they held no clue to the identity of the +murderer. Motive there was none as far as they could see, and the whole +affair looked like one of these senseless crimes that from time to time +startle the city folk from their easy-going equanimity. The matter was +not even a nine-days' wonder, for other things occupied the attention of +the press, and a stickful was the most it ever got in any paper. + +I stayed on in the house at Moira's request and attended to several +matters that were rather outside her province. The old man turned out +not to be as rich as we had thought, though he had money enough in +truth. The bulk of this went to Moira, with the curious proviso that she +could not invest it in any way without first submitting the proposal to +me and receiving my sanction. The will was of recent date, as a matter +of fact it had been drawn up within a few days of Moira's arrival. There +was a sum left to me, too, enough to make me independent for a good many +years to come. + +Moira's mother arrived the day after the tragedy, and showed no very +evident intention of returning home. She was very nice to me, but then +there was no reason why she should have been anything else. Any strain +that there had been, and was still for that matter, was between her +daughter and myself, and, like a wise mother, she forebore from +interfering in what did not immediately concern her. + +For my own sake, if for no other reason, I hurried along the winding-up +of Bryce's affairs. I saw, or fancied I saw, that the sooner I left the +house the better would Moira be pleased. For when all was said and done +there could be no denying that things were far from satisfactory. +Neither of us made any further reference to my bare-faced lying on that +ill-starred night, but the more I thought of it the more equivocal did +the present situation seem. I for one was doubly glad when at last we +finished with the lawyers, and things--blessed, indefinite word--seemed +like to settle down again. + +My time of departure was no further off than twenty-four hours away when +the incident occurred that led to a hurried readjustment of my plans and +that brought us, willy-nilly, to the Valley--for so I still persist in +calling it, as if there were not another valley in the world--and the +treasure that lay there and helped us to unravel the tangled threads of +Bryce's past life. + +I had my bag already packed, and had announced that I was going the next +evening, when Moira stayed me with a word. + +"I've been meaning to talk to you for a long time," she said, "but +somehow I could never seem to summon up enough courage. It's about Uncle +and ... well, you know as well as I do, that there was some mystery +about him." + +"Go on," I said. + +"Well, he told me once that if ever anything happened to him we would +find documents in his room that would help us to take up the work where +he left off. He repeated that the very night he died. Don't you see what +that means?" + +"It means that they are still there," I said soberly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +INTRODUCING MR. ALBERT CUMSHAW. + + +"That's the peculiar part of it, Jim. They should still be in the room, +because they couldn't possibly have been taken away. Yet I've hunted +high and low and I can't find them." + +"And, now you find you're in difficulties, you call me in," I hinted. + +"Jim, I wish you wouldn't talk that way. There's no call for us to be +continually bickering. If we can't be anything else, at least we can be +friends, can't we?" + +"I suppose it's worth trying. But what have the papers to do with me?" + +"They affect you as well as me, Jim. Uncle wished the two of us to carry +on his work." + +"How pleasant!" I murmured. "And suppose I refuse?" + +"Well," she said, with just the least gesture of helplessness, "I'll +have to do whatever I can myself. But it was Uncle's wish that we divide +the proceeds." + +"The proceeds of what?" + +"That's more than I can say, Jim. We've got to find the papers first." + +"That's so, Moira. Seeing it's you, I'll hunt for them; if it's worth +while I might even help you through, but you'll have to understand from +the very start that I won't finger a penny of what you call the +proceeds." + +"You usen't to be like that, Jim." + +"I've changed a lot, haven't I?" I grinned. + +For a moment she stared blankly at me, then she asked me, as if the +thought had just occurred to her, "There isn't any other girl, is +there?" + +"There never was any other girl," I said. "There was always only the +one, but she failed...." + +I saw that she had some intimate little revelation on the tip of her +tongue, so, for fear she might say too much--one never knows what a +woman will say if she fancies any words of hers will gain the day--I +said briskly, "Now, about those papers, Moira. Where did you look?" + +"Everywhere, Jim." + +"You couldn't have. There's one place at least where you haven't +looked." + +"And that?" she queried eagerly. + +"The place where they're hidden," I answered disconcertingly. + +"Oh," she said blankly; and then, "Have you any idea where that is?" + +I shook my head. "None at all, Moira. Still your uncle told you that +they were in his study, and as you say they couldn't have been taken +away, the only thing to do is to look in every likely place for a +start." + +"And if we find nothing?" + +"Then we'll look in the unlikely places. And as there's no time like the +present, I suggest we start now." + +Moira was quite agreeable to that, so we entered the room. Books and +everything lay just as we had left them the night of the tragedy; only +the broken window-pane had been taken out and a new one inserted. + +"I never thought of it before," I remarked, "but the sight of that new +pane just brought to my mind how narrow a squeak you had that night." + +"I don't follow you, Jim." + +"Well, if our friends the police hadn't been so willing to swallow the +obvious, they would have seen that my tale was all bunkum. When that +chap fired he starred the window, and when your shot went through it +finished the job and knocked a finger of glass right out. If the +sergeant had only gone over to the window and examined it carefully, he +would have seen enough to make him wonder how the deuce the same shot +could have hit the same bit of glass in two places. But he didn't go +over to examine it; I had filled his mind with an hypothesis, and he +couldn't see anything else but that. Now it's the same with this +business of looking for the papers. You seem to think your uncle would +put them just where anyone could lay hands on them. I don't. Your uncle +had a fair amount of foresight--he realised all along that it was likely +that he'd be cut off short--and the mere fact that he told you twice at +least that he had left you instructions shows that he had gone about +things carefully and methodically. Again, he had no means of knowing +just how he would be killed, so you can take it for granted that he +provided against such a contingency as this room being thoroughly +searched by the murderers. In other words, the papers are so placed that +only an intelligent person who knew your uncle's mind would guess where +the hiding place is. Now I'm having a wild shot at it, but it's logical +enough in all conscience. When you can't find a thing, try to take over +the mentality of the man who hid it." + +"I'm afraid you're getting too deep for me, Jim." + +"I'll put it another way, Moira. Something influenced your uncle in the +hiding-place he selected, and we've got to parallel his thoughts, if we +can, in order to find out the spot." + +"But that's impossible." + +"At first glance it seems like it. But just think the matter over. I've +got more than half an idea already. Whatever those papers are they're +certainly typewritten, and I'm sure they've something to do with that +bit of wood. Oh, I forgot. I've never told you about that. It happened +on the beach." + +"Uncle told me how he met you," Moira volunteered. + +"I'll bet he didn't say anything about the driftwood though." + +"No, he did not," Moira admitted. So then and there I told her the tale. +"You can understand from that," I concluded, "that whatever he was +typing had something to do with that piece of wood. Now when he had made +up his mind to secrete the papers two words would be prominent in his +thoughts." + +"I know," she said with a flash of intuition. + +"Tell me," I smiled. + +"'Sands' and 'wood,'" she said eagerly. + +"'Wood' is one of them," I answered, "but I rather prefer to say 'bury' +for the other. Now the only place he could bury anything about here in +such a way that it wouldn't be noticed is under the hearthstone; but, as +it's cement in this case, I think we can leave it out of the question. +He wouldn't put them under the floor. For one thing it'd take too long, +and the sweepers would be sure to notice if the carpet or the linoleum +had been disturbed. So that brings us back to 'wood' again." + +"How about the wall? A secret panel, or something of the kind?" + +"I don't think he'd select anything so obvious," I said with a shake of +my head. "It had to be a place that we'd find, but that everyone else +would miss. There's quite a lot of wooden articles here, Moira, so we'll +go over them very carefully." + +I surveyed the furniture ruefully. "Looks as if we'll have to chop a lot +of things to pieces," I remarked. + +"Silly!" said Moira Drummond disgustedly. "We're looking for something +hollow, so why not tap?" + +"Brilliant idea!" I said. + +As I sit writing at this table in that very same room, the scene comes +back to me with all the clearness of a well-developed photograph. In my +mind's eye I see Moira and myself on our knees tapping every inch of the +old mahogany and the newer imitation Chippendale, and I realise as I +have realised a dozen times since to what needless trouble we went, when +a little thought upon the lines that I have already mapped out would +have led us just as easily, and perhaps a good deal quicker, to the very +spot itself. But we were young then--though for that matter we are +still--and to young people all motion is progress. It is only when one +gets older and sees things in perspective that one realises.... But that +wasn't what I set out to write about. + +The long and short of it was that we tapped all the furniture most +carefully, and at the end of it found that our persistence was still +unrewarded. + +"There's something wrong somewhere," Moira said disappointedly. + +"It seems as if there's been a mistake in our judgment," I agreed. +"Still I fancy the table's the most likely place. You see he sat there +always." + +"Suppose you sit in his place then, Jim." + +"Excellent idea, Moira," I said, and at once proceeded to put it into +practice. + +"Now if I had just finished typing anything and was looking for a safe +place to hide it, where would I naturally go?" I said out aloud. Moira +dropped into a chair on the other side of the table and leaned forward, +her chin resting in her hand, and regarded me with intense interest. I +went on talking to myself. "I'm thinking of wood, and the nearest wood +to me is the table. Therefore I'd hide it somewhere about the table, not +in or on it, but just about it." + +Moira's eyes glowed--I remember that particularly--and we both must have +seized on the idea at one and the same instant. + +"Oh, why didn't we think of it before?" she cried, and then the two of +us were on our knees and groping under the table. It was a massive piece +of furniture in its way, with a large cross-piece running from side to +side underneath. And on this cross-piece, so tied with string that it +could not slip off, was a tiny packet of oil-skin. + +"The safest place in the house," I said, as I stood upright and held out +a helping hand to Moira. "No one would ever think of looking there. See +how nearly we missed it." + +"Jim, Jim, let's have a look!" she begged. + +My answer was to place the package in my pocket. "Not here," I said in +explanation. "You must remember that those murdering gentlemen aren't +accounted for yet, and it'd be a pity to let them get hold of the very +thing we've been keeping out of their clutches for so long." + +"I never thought of that," she said with a crestfallen air. "Of course +you're right. But where'll we go?" + +"Any of the inner rooms. The drawing-room, say. That hasn't got any +windows opening out on to the garden." + +Moira caught my arm. "Come on, Jim," she cried, "I'm dying to know what +is in it." + +"The more haste the less speed," I remarked soberly. "Likewise there's +many a slip between the cup and the lip." + +"Don't, Jim, don't be pessimistic just when everything's beginning to +turn out well." + +"Beginning," I repeated. "You're right there. We're just beginning now." + +But all the same she did not take her hand off my arm, and when hers +slipped through mine in quite the good old way, I could not find it in +my heart to tell her that she must do no such thing. + +The drawing-room was just as comfortable a place as a man could wish, +and I saw at a glance that there was no likelihood of our being +disturbed there. + +I held the packet in my hands for I don't know how many seconds, almost +afraid to open it. Inside was the secret that had lost Bryce his life, +the secret that had cost, though I did not know it at the time, almost a +dozen lives, and that would bring two at least of our associates +perilously close to the grave before our work was ended. Moira shared +some of my hesitation, for she made no effort to hurry me into undoing +the packet, but stood awaiting my pleasure. + +The string was tied so tightly that I could not unknot it. I drew my +knife and cut it, and the oil-skin unrolled of itself. The first thing I +came across was a letter from Bryce addressed to the two of us. It was +not contained in an envelope, but seemed to have been slipped in as an +after-thought. It ran:-- + + Dear Moira and Dear Jimmy,-- + + If you ever read this it will be because I am no more and have + failed to bring my plans to a successful conclusion. In that case I + look to the two of you to carry on from the point where I left off, + but because you are both young, and so have very little sense, I + don't intend to let either of you fall into an easy thing. There's + money at the back of this, enough to make you rich for life, but + you'll have to use the brains you both have got and work like the + very dickens to get it. I've put some of the necessary directions + in a cypher that a child could read, but apart from that you'll + have to use your heads. As you know some things that Moira doesn't, + Jimmy, and vice versa, you can see that it won't pay either of you + to quarrel. + + The man who really holds the key to the situation is a gentleman + named Abel Cumshaw. Abel, I understand, is in his second childhood, + and can never be brought to realise that it is any later than the + early eighties, but his son Albert is a most astonishing young + fellow, as you'll find when you meet him, if you have not already + done so before this falls into your hands. You see I have + sufficient confidence in your ability to believe that you will find + this package sooner or later. If it's too late when you do find it, + of course the joke'll be on the pair of you. + + Now, a word to you, Moira. Jimmy knows the hidden valley quite + well, so don't believe him if he says he doesn't. I spent nearly an + hour the other day telling him all about it, and even went the + length of showing him a map of the place. If he doesn't help you + out, it's because he's got a bad memory. + + As for yourself, Jimmy, remember that you can't get along without + Moira and don't try. Once you've found what you're looking for you + can each go your own way, but I rather fancy you won't want to + then. I think that's about all, unless to remind you that Mr. + Albert Cumshaw will be entitled to his fair share of the spoils. + +And on that note the letter ended, and underneath was his sprawling +signature, "H. Bryce," written as firmly as ever he had written it. + +"Well, what do you make of that?" I asked when I had finished reading +it. + +"I--I----" + +"I know," I cut in. "I feel that way too. Do you think he's put up a +joke on us?" + +"I just don't want to speak about it," Moira said tearfully. +"It's--it's--I wouldn't have expected it of him." + +"It's the unexpected that happens," I said with some idea that I was +consoling her. I could see that the tears were very near her eyes, and I +didn't want her to break down now and cry. A man is always at a great +disadvantage in dealing with a weeping woman; she can usually persuade +him to do almost anything for her while she's in that state. If I find +my wife crying--but it doesn't matter what I'd do, for I've no right to +be introducing purely speculative matter that has nothing at all to do +with the story. + +"It doesn't explain anything," Moira said at length. "It only makes +everything worse than ever." + +"I wouldn't say that," I said. I saw, or thought I saw, a glimmer of +light. It was so faint that I daren't as yet put it into words. "He must +have been in a rather frivolous mood when he wrote this," I continued. +"All the same, I think we're getting closer. We haven't looked at the +cypher yet, you know." + +"No more we have, Jim. Let's see what it's like." + +I handed it to her. At first sight I could have sworn that it was the +identical piece of paper that I had picked up from the kitchen floor +that momentous afternoon, but a second glance showed me that I was +mistaken. Many of the characters were the same, but the grouping was +altogether different. They ran as follows:-- + + 2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@3 @75 L994 1/4; L 5@3 48-1/2-8;? 1/2-7; + 1/4-43 8; &8;3 --3-1/4-1/2-743 1/2-3: 3; "335 3-1/4-1/2-5.5@3; + "1/4-/3 L843/5 ;945@3/4 L4-1/4-2 1/4;95@34 &8;3 1/4-5 48?@5 + 1/4;?&3-1/2 59 5@3 043:897-1/2 9;3 3)53; L8;? "94 523&:3 "335.L8? + 5@3. + +"It doesn't seem to mean anything, Jim," she said in consternation. + +"I'll admit it's pretty hard to understand," I told her. "It looks like +a page out of a ready reckoner or a mathematician's nightmare. But it +does mean something or your uncle wouldn't have put it up to us. What it +is we've got to find out. Possibly the Mr. Cumshaw of the letter can +throw a little light on the subject." + +"Who is Mr. Cumshaw, Jim?" + +"I never heard of the man until I read this letter," I said. "He's a new +element in the plot, and, unless your uncle's pulling our legs, I think +he's going to be a very important factor." + +"He's got to share with us, too," she reminded me. + +"Share with you," I corrected. "I've told you a couple of times already +that I'll help you to it, but that I don't intend to take a penny of the +money. So, when you're figuring it out, remember it's halves, not +thirds, you're working on." + +"If it was anybody else but me you'd take it quickly enough," she said +accusingly. + +"Maybe I would and again maybe I wouldn't," I said with a smile. + +"Oh, Jim, I hate you!" she cried in a sudden blaze of temper. + +"I'm sorry," I said easily. "It doesn't take much to make you hate +seemingly." + +She turned and faced me with one of those swift changes of front that +made her so hard to deal with. The white-hot anger had gone as suddenly +as it had come, and in its place there was nothing but hopelessness. She +looked so weary and so miserable that for the moment I was tempted to +take her in my arms and tell her that the past did not matter any more +than did the future. But the memory of the words with which she had +driven me out of her life that summer's evening long ago lashed me like +a whip, and in an instant I had hardened my heart. + +"Why do you make it so hard for me, Jim?" she moaned. "If only you would +help me a little." + +"I'm helping you all I can," I said with a touch of cynicism in my +voice. "You can count on me until the adventure's finished." + +"You know I don't mean that," she said weakly. + +"There's nothing else you can mean," I answered stubbornly. + +For the space of a heart-beat we stood facing each other. I saw that she +was on the verge of a breakdown, and I knew that my own resolution was +failing. After all, what need was there for me to be so brutal? She had +suffered more than enough for the idle words spoken in haste all those +years ago. There is no knowing what might have happened had not Fate +intervened. But just as things had reached breaking-strain the door-bell +rang. The prosaic sound brought us back instantly to earth, and a +dramatic situation, tense with possibilities, became in a moment +common-place. + +"There's the door-bell," Moira said calmly. "I wonder who it can be." + +"Some visitor or other," I remarked. + +"What visitor could it be?" she asked. "I know of no one who'd have +business here." + +I knew of one at least, but I did not put my thoughts into words. +Instead I remarked, "Quite possibly it's some house-hunter." + +We heard the maid's steps go up the hall past us. There was a whispered +colloquy at the door, and then, quite distinctly, the maid's voice said, +"I'll see if he is in." + +"That must be me," I guessed. "I'm the only 'he' in the house." + +"But who knows you're here?" Moira objected. + +"That's right," I said. "Who does?" + +I opened the door of the room and looked out. The maid, who was coming +down the passage, caught sight of me. "There's a gentleman wishes to see +you, Mr. Carstairs," she announced. + +"Show him in here," I said. + +I turned back into the room. "You'd better stop here, Moira," I said as +she made a movement to go. "It can't be anything private. It's just as +likely that it's something that interests you too." + +She sat down again. + +The maid ushered the newcomer into the room. I ran my eye over him as I +advanced to meet him. He was small and dapper, and his air of +self-possession was almost perfect. His features were clean-cut, dark +eyes glowed in a face that had evidently been exposed to the weather for +many years, and his brow was surmounted by a mass of black curls. + +"Mr. Carstairs?" he asked. + +"That's me," I said truthfully but ungrammatically. + +"This will explain my business," he said, and handed me a piece of +pasteboard. I took it from him; it was one of Bryce's visiting cards, +and scribbled across the foot of it were these words:--"Introducing Mr. +Albert Cumshaw. H. Bryce." + +"I've been expecting you, Mr. Cumshaw," I said. "I've been expecting you +for some days now." + +As a matter of fact I hadn't, but it is always a good rule to allow the +other man to think you know everything. + +"Moira," I said, "this is the Mr. Cumshaw we've been waiting for. Mr. +Cumshaw, Miss Drummond." + +"Pleased to meet you," he said and looked as if he meant it. + +"Take a seat, Mr. Cumshaw," I said, and when he had accepted a chair, +"What can I do for you?" I enquired. + +He looked curiously from one to the other of us as if to seek an +inspiration. "I presume Mr. Bryce is not about," he said at length. + +"Well, hardly," I answered. "He's been dead this last couple of weeks." +It was longer than that in reality, but I mentioned the first period +that came into my head. Anyway, it didn't matter much how long it was +since he died; nothing could make him any the less dead now. + +"Oh," said Mr. Cumshaw quietly, as though my news was just what he had +been expecting all along. "It is most regrettable," he added. + +"Now what can I do for you?" I persisted. + +"Touching the little matter of the gold escort," he said and fixed me +with a glowing eye. + +"Yes, the gold escort, Mr. Cumshaw. What about it!" + +He did not answer that immediately, but eyed both Moira and me as if to +test our receptive capacities. I maintained an attitude of complete +indifference; Moira leaned forward a little with interest plainly marked +in every line of her face. + +"You were both in Mr. Bryce's confidence?" His quiet remark took the +form of a question. + +I nodded. + +"Go on," Moira urged. "You came to tell us about your father, Mr. Abel +Cumshaw." + +"That's right," said the young man with amazing alacrity. "You're all +right too. I wasn't sure at first, but now I see you're in the game with +me. From what I know of it we're all like pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. We +all fit in, and none of us is any use without the others. That being so, +I fancy that we had better all place our cards on the table. Now which +of you has got the cypher?" + +Moira looked at me for guidance. I was pleased to see that she was +learning that she couldn't do without me. I was pleased--no, I wasn't +pleased at all, for it didn't matter now what Moira thought of me. + +"What cypher is that?" I enquired innocently. + +"There is only one cypher, Mr. Carstairs," Mr. Cumshaw stated. He seemed +so sure about it that my curiosity was aroused. + +"Indeed?" I said politely. I knew better than to contradict him +outright, so I did it by implication. + +"There's only the one," the young man repeated. "You should know, +because Mr. Bryce left it to you." + +If I had had any doubts before as to the genuine character of my visitor +they all vanished at that last remark of his. It was one of those things +that a man could not have guessed, however clever he might be. He must +have had inside knowledge. Hitherto I had been indulging in that +pleasant pastime that is known in boxing circles as "sparring for wind," +but now I dropped the pose completely and answered him as +straightforwardly as was consistent with reasonable caution. + +"Yes, he did leave a cypher to me," I admitted. "But what do you know +about it?" + +"Only what Mr. Bryce wrote me. I'm sorry I can't show you the letter, +but Mr. Bryce had an invariable rule that all correspondence from him +must be burnt as soon as read." + +"I guess I've got to accept you at your face value, Mr. Cumshaw," I +said. "You'll pardon me for doubting you at first, but it pays to be +cautious in a game like this. Now I'd like to know just how we are going +to assist each other." + +"That's more than I can say," the young man smiled. "If I tell you the +story from start to finish, maybe you'll get a better idea of what we're +after." + +"Would it take long?" I said diffidently. "It's fairly late now." + +"If Mr. Cumshaw would stop to tea," Moira suggested, and looked to me +for approval of her proposition. Under the circumstances there was only +one thing for me to do, so I did it. + +"You'll greatly oblige us if you stop," I said. "That is if it won't be +causing any inconvenience?" I added questioningly. + +"None at all," he said cheerily. "Nothing of this sort ever +inconveniences me"--this latter with a glance at Moira. + +"So that's the game, is it, young man?" I said to myself. "Well, here's +luck to you." + +Aloud I said, "I am pleased to hear it." The funny part of it all was +that I really meant it. There was something open and honest about the +man himself, there was a healthful glow in his dark eyes, and he had a +way of looking at one that was the very essence of frankness itself. +Without knowing more of him than I had learnt in the few minutes we had +been conversing, I felt that he was as open as the day. In this case at +least my first impressions were more than justified by the course of +events. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Cumshaw stopped to tea and made himself very much at home, and +afterwards he told us the story of the gold escort. I have not set out +his tale as we heard it that evening. For one thing he only related what +he happened to know about the matter, and as a result there were many +little blanks he had to leave unfilled. But with the completion of our +enterprise many additional facts have come to light, and so it is that, +with Mr. Cumshaw's aid and at his suggestion, I give here a fuller and +more comprehensive version of the affair than he related to us that +evening. + + + + +PART II. + +_THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +NIGHTFALL. + + +Far away to the west the fiery globe of the setting sun dropped lazily +down to rest behind the quaint goblin peaks of the Grampians. Its last +lingering rays touched their summits with a crimson glow, flooded the +valleys with garish light, and even penetrated into the recesses of the +nearby woodlands until the whole place seemed to blaze as with the red +fire of Hell. It was not a peaceful sunset; it did not even hold the +promise of peace. It was alive and active, in the sense that light can +live, and one could but feel that its potency was malignant and assured. +There were clouds aplenty in the sky, light clouds looking as if they +had been trailed through red ink, but there was nothing about them to +suggest that a storm was brewing, or that even the slightest change in +the weather could be expected. Nevertheless the air contained a hint of +evil, so much so that an imaginative person would have peopled the hills +with gnomes and the woods with devils. Even had fairies existed in the +glades, one would have instinctively known them to be bad fairies. Yet +one could not say offhand whence or from whom the evil that was to be, +would originate; all earth and sky seemed somehow to be in the dread +conspiracy. + +The lurid hues of the sunset flared and faded into the drabber colors of +twilight, the shadows swept down in phalanxes from the hills, and the +still lifeless trees, stirring in the evening breeze, became black +mocking shapes of infamy. The yellow disc of a moon, climbing up over +the woods, took on the semblance of the leering face of a drunken man. + +The two men who presently came riding along through the tangled +fastnesses of what a couple of score years or more ago were the +untenanted and, to a great extent, the unexplored depths of a Victorian +forest, were very evidently unaffected by the grim fancies of the +evening. They were not laughing certainly, and when they spoke it was in +whispers, but the younger man hummed a music-hall tune under his breath. +There was something rakish, not to say reckless, in the way the elder +sat his mount. They went carefully, though, taking every possible +precaution against making needless noise. Once the horse of the elder +man stumbled and set a stone rolling down a declivity. Both men reined +in instantly and listened until the echoes died away in the distance. + +"You're as nervous as a rabbit, Jack," the younger man remarked when +presently they resumed their journey. "Every little sound seems to +startle you." + +"There's no sense in taking chances, man," said the one called Jack. + +"If it comes to that there's no chances to take." + +"Only that of being caught and hanged, Abel." + +"There's not much hope of that," Abel Cumshaw replied. "Gentry like +ourselves are rather out of fashion now since they've squashed the +Kellys. The country's quietened down a lot, and a 'ranger's supposed to +be a thing of the past. As it is, there's never been bushrangers in this +part of the State, and what hasn't been is the least likely to happen in +most people's estimation." + +"I'm with you there, Abel," Jack said. "But even that's no reason why we +shouldn't go carefully. You must remember that we don't know this part +of the State too well. That's the beauty of it, I suppose. Nobody knows +it very much." + +"It'll make pursuit difficult," the other suggested. "But what I can't +understand is why the banks should send so much gold across country when +there's the railway." + +"The railway, friend Cumshaw, isn't the safest route. There's just as +clever men working that as used to be working the stages. Moreover, this +cross-country route's much the quicker way of the two." + +"For which we may thank the Lord," said Abel Cumshaw, with cheerful +impiety. + +"Time enough to thank the Lord," the other retorted, "when we've +finished the job successfully. All the same, I wish we had a pack +horse." + +"If we had brought a pack-horse," said Cumshaw, "we'd have had half the +country-side wondering what the deuce was up. Like as not they'd think +there was a new gold-strike on." + +"And they wouldn't have been wrong in that," the other answered with +grim humor. "But let's get to the business of the evening, Abel. I've +got a good idea to put the pursuers off the scent, that is, if there's +any pursuit." + +"Out with it, then," said Cumshaw. + +The elder man reined in his horse, and, leaning over, whispered in his +companion's ear. As the tale proceeded a cheerful grin spread over +Cumshaw's face. + +"That'll do fine," he said gleefully. "You almost make me wish they do +pursue us just for the fun of seeing them fall in." + +"There's nothing to be gained by being foolhardy," the elder man warned +him. "Now we can't afford to waste time. Let us get to work at once." + +Without more ado he led the way down through the tangle of forest and +across the open glades until they reached the narrow track that wound +like a monstrous brown ribbon through the enormous gums. At the edge of +the road they both dismounted and tethered their horses to convenient +trees. Then, stepping very gingerly, and taking extreme care not to +leave any footprints on the dusty surface of the track, they groped +about on the roadside. Presently they both returned to the horses, each +of them carrying an armful of heavy stones which they loaded carefully +into the enormous saddle-bags that dangled one on each side of the +saddle-flaps. + +"That should about do it," Cumshaw remarked, when this was completed. + +"I hope so," the other answered curtly. He sprang to the saddle, loosed +the reins that had tethered the animal, and setting his spurs deep into +its flank galloped up the track for a matter of a hundred yards or so, +closely followed by his companion. Then they turned sharply off into the +bush, designedly traversing the soft impressionable ground. The +heavily-laden horses floundered in the soft soil, and gradually the pace +dropped away from a gallop to a canter, and finally to a walk. When +nearly two miles of this sort of country had been covered, the two men +reined in and dismounted. Next they unloaded the stones from the +saddle-bags and hid them carefully in the undergrowth. Cumshaw then +proceeded to cut his thick blanket into strips, each of about eighteen +inches square. There were eight of these strips in all--four he kept +himself and the others he handed to his companion. + +"It's a smart enough dodge, all right," the man remarked. "The only +possible flaw in it is that there might be some gentleman present who's +dealt with cattle-duffers in the past. If so, he'd be pretty sure to +scent our little game, and block it." + +"Let's hope for the best," said Mr. Cumshaw, cheerfully, looking up from +his work with a smile that even the darkness of the night could not +hide. He was systematically wrapping the squares of blankets round the +hoofs of his mount and securing them in such a way that they would +remain fast even during a wild gallop over rough country. The trick +itself was an old one; it had its origin many years previous in Texas +and Arizona when the raiding Indians made their horses walk over +blankets spread on the ground in order to hide the direction of their +retreat. The idea had been adopted and developed by the Australian +cattle-duffers to meet the exigencies of the country they worked in. The +trick therefore was by no means a new one, and there was just a chance, +as the man Jack remarked, that someone might drop to it. But the false +hoof-prints were an unprecedented addition that would probably keep the +pursuers long enough on the wrong scent to enable the precious pair to +"escape" and "cache" their plunder. + +It was characteristic of the two men that once they had taken all +precautions they quietly dismissed the matter from their minds and rode +slowly back to the roadway with scarce a thought for the business in +hand. Abel Cumshaw would have whistled had he dared; as it was he hummed +softly to himself. The moon was now well up in the heavens, and its +fitful light creeping through the leafy roof above, made gibbering +ghosts of the swaying gums. Mr. Abel Cumshaw and his companion, Jack +Bradby, had been brought up in the Australian bush, their nerves were as +steady as a rock, and where others saw grim visions of fancy they saw +only waving bushes and stripped gums. Though the present adventure was +their first essay in ranging, both of them had lived by their wits, or +rather by others' want of wits, for more years than were good for them. +Singly or together they had run other people's sheep and cattle and made +a lucrative, if dishonest, living at the game, and during their visits +to the towns had made it a point of warped honor to pay their expenses +with the ill-gotten gold of some duller fellow-creature. On top of it +all they had a carelessness of life and a free hand with their +easily-earned wealth that found them friends wherever they went. + +Bradby pulled up suddenly and held up his hand in warning to his +companion. Some faint noise had caught his ear, and, excellent bushman +that he was, he would not rest content until he had located and defined +it. Silently as a shadow he slipped from his saddle and dropped +recumbent on the ground. With one ear to the earth beneath he listened. +He remained in this posture for perhaps a minute and a half, then he +rose abruptly and turned to Mr. Cumshaw. + +"Horses," he said laconically. + +"Must be them," Mr. Cumshaw replied with almost equal brevity. + +Deftly, and without haste of any sort, each man knotted a red and white +spotted handkerchief across the lower half of his face, leaving only the +eyes and forehead visible. Then each tilted his hat so that the shadow +thrown by the brim shrouded the uncovered portion of the face. Mr. +Cumshaw, with the amazing simplicity of a conjurer, produced a pair of +ugly-looking revolvers from apparent nothingness, while his companion +slipped his holsters round so that his weapons were within easy and +immediate reach. He did not, however, remount his horse, but threw the +reins to Mr. Cumshaw, who draped them over his arm in such a way that +they did not hamper his movements in the least. + + * * * * * + +The little group of horsemen, four, or perhaps five in all, clattered +down the track as unsuspiciously as a man could wish. They were chatting +quite easily, even joyously, of the thousand and one little matters that +supplied their daily lives with interest, and nothing must have been +further from their thoughts than what actually occurred. The bank that +had sent them had departed from all precedent in parcelling out the gold +amongst the messengers. It was certainly against the rather strict +regulations of the bank, but the man who had instructed them had that +contempt for rules and regulations which is the mark of a man destined +to rise in the world. + +"The expense of sending you," he had said, "is certainly no greater than +that of the recognised method of forwarding by coach. The security of my +method is even greater as you are not at all open to suspicion." + +As a matter of fact, all would have gone well had not one of the chosen +messengers been a little too fond of his nightly drink, and more or less +inclined to talk when in his cups. True, on this particular evening he +had exercised a kind of maudlin caution, but the tactics of Mr. Jack +Bradby were of the sort to extract valuable information in the least +noticeable way possible, and as a consequence the man, while keeping a +strict guard of his tongue, at the same time let fall enough information +to satisfy the curiosity of the 'ranger. + +The first intimation the little cavalcade had of the presence of the +knights of the road was when a shadow moved out from behind a huge gum +and a clear resounding voice invited them to halt or take the +consequences. With one accord the riders pulled up, one man swore +violently, and the hand of another dropped round to his belt in a +hesitant manner. But Mr. Jack Bradby had eyes like an eagle, for he +cried sharply, "Put your hands up instantly!" + +All the men shot their hands skywards with a precision that could not +have been bettered by weeks of training. + +"You look ever so much better like that," said Mr. Jack Bradby +pleasantly. "Just keep still. I'd hate to make corpses of any of +you--you all look so much better alive." + +The humor of this was apparently lost on the captured ones, for they +received it in silence, much to Mr. Bradby's disgust. + +"Laugh when I crack a joke!" he roared. "Laugh, all of you, damn you!" + +Somebody giggled in a half-hearted manner. + +"That's no sort of a laugh," snorted Mr. Bradby. "When I say laugh, I +mean laugh. I don't want you to bubble like that jackass did." He +indicated the giggler with one of his ugly-looking revolvers. "Now laugh +altogether as if you meant it. One, two, three; off you go!" + +They all roared at that, but there was a lack of enthusiasm in their +voices. Mr. Bradby, however, passed that over and proceeded to the +business of the evening. + +"Now please keep your hands in the same position," Mr. Bradby continued. +"You've got quite a lot of valuables in those saddle-bags of yours, and +I'm going to annex them. And don't any of you move a hand or foot or +you'll be shot before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' There's men in plenty +in among those trees, so don't play any hanky-panky tricks if you value +your lives." + +The scared horsemen with one accord glanced toward the trees that +fringed the road. Mr. Bradby had stage-managed the affair with such +consummate skill that they could only see the dim forms of several +horses. The shadows were cast so that it was impossible to say how many +there were; as far as the captives were concerned a regiment of cavalry +might have been massed behind the trees for all they could say to the +contrary. They had a feeling that unseen eyes watched them and invisible +firearms covered their every movement. A solitary ray of moonlight, +glinting for an instant on one of Cumshaw's revolvers lent color to this +suggestion, so like wise men they surrendered to the inevitable and +allowed the explosive Mr. Bradby to relieve them first of all of their +weapons, and, when he had "drawn their teeth," as he succinctly +expressed it, to rifle their saddle-bags for the little packages of gold +that it was their mission to guard with their lives. Life at all times +is dearer than gold, and the men realised that they were in a trap from +which there was only one way of escape. They submitted meekly to their +fate, saw the saddle-bags rifled without a word of protest, and, +deceived by the shadows, watched what they took to be half a dozen men +at least loading up with the gold. It speaks well for the dominant +personality of Mr. Bradby that no one seemed to have suspected that only +two men were concerned in the hold-up, despite the fact that they really +only saw one man and the shadowy outline of another. + +"Turn round, all of you!" Mr. Bradby commanded when the transfer had +been completed. "Turn round and keep your hands in the air!" + +Obediently, albeit clumsily, since they could not use their hands, the +horsemen wheeled their mounts around, and Mr. Bradby surveyed the scene +with satisfaction. + +"You all look nice from the rear," he remarked. "Some of you've got real +fine backs. Just you keep like that now and see what the fairies'll send +you." + +So silently that he might have been a disembodied spirit he turned on +his heel, seized the reins Mr. Cumshaw threw him and vaulted into the +saddle. As softly as two shadows the horses melted into the night, their +muffled hoofs making no sound on the hard earth. + +Ten minutes later one of the horsemen, grown tired of the unearthly +inaction and suspecting something of what had happened, slewed his head +round very cautiously. In a flash he realised the position and imparted +his discovery to his companions. + +"We can't follow them," the leader said. "We're unarmed. Furthermore +we've got no idea which way they went. The only thing we can do is to +get back to the nearest police station and report." + +The man who had first discovered the absence of the bushrangers had been +employing his time in examining the ground for traces of the gang, and +very shortly he came across the tracks that the precious pair had made +earlier in the evening. An exclamation from him drew the others to the +spot. By the flickering light of a match they inspected the hoof-marks, +and then the leader of the party gave vent to a snort of disgust. + +"There's only two of them," he said. "What fools we've been!" + +"They completely took us in," remarked another member of the party. + +"That's so," agreed a third, "but we can't make people understand. If we +tell them how two men stuck us up, we're going to look a lot of goats. I +For one think we'd better keep the number to ourselves, or, better +still, we might say that there was a big party of them." + +One or two demurred at this, but the bulk of the party knew well the +ridicule that the truth would attach to them, and the result was that +between them a story carrying the marks of probability was invented, +and, thus armed against the laughter of the State, the party set out for +the nearest town. + +In the meanwhile Bradby and Cumshaw had doubled back on their tracks and +were heading for the Grampians. Though neither of them had explored the +mountains before, they were quite satisfied from what they knew of the +general formation of the country that there were gullies, even valleys, +where an army might lie hidden. So confident were the two adventurers +that there was no danger of pursuit that they did not press forward at +anything like a reasonable speed. They took things easy. Somewhere about +two o'clock in the morning they halted and removed the blanket-pads from +their horses' hoofs. Mr. Cumshaw was just going to throw them into the +bushes when Mr. Bradby stopped him. + +"Don't do that," he said, "we'd better destroy them outright." + +"How?" queried Abel. + +"Burn 'em, I should say," Mr. Bradby answered. "You make a good job of +it, and you don't leave anything behind. If you throw them away +someone's sure to find them just when it's most awkward for you. No, +Abel, burn them and hurry up about it." + +So it came about that presently a tiny spot of light glowed like a red +warning beacon from the lower slopes of the range. A lonely prospector, +a few miles to the east, saw the spark and wondered at it. He knew that +no one lived in that part of the country. The more he thought of it the +more it puzzled him, though with the morning there came an unexpected +solution. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE PURSUIT. + + +A body of mounted troopers left Ararat an hour or so before daylight the +next morning, and by seven o'clock had reached the scene of the robbery. +They had with them a capable black tracker who had figured in recent +events in the Wombat Ranges. He was a silent individual who answered to +the name of "Jacky," a name that seems to be the heritage of all blacks +who serve in the police force. He quickly picked up the false scent, and +the party turned east. It wasn't until the horses stumbled over the heap +of stones that some brilliant intellect dropped to the trick that had +been played on them. Then, with the better part of an hour to the bad, +the party returned to the starting-point of the trail. + +"Seems to me," the sergeant in charge remarked to his subordinate, "that +they've laid this trail with a good reason. Now if a man wanted to put +you on the wrong track, what would you think he'd naturally do?" + +"Send us in the opposite direction," said the other promptly. + +"Quite so," said the sergeant. "Now the false trail leads east, so it's +only reasonable to suppose that they've gone west." + +"That's so," the other agreed. "Get-up, you brute." The latter remark +was addressed to the horse, which showed an inclination to drop into a +walk. + +"Here you, Jacky!" the sergeant called, and when the black came to him +he said, "Those white men have gone this way," pointing westward. "Look +out for their tracks, though I don't fancy we'll see any for some time." + +The black grunted non-committally. He had much the same idea himself, +though he could not understand how the white man had guessed. Still he +knew enough of the white men to realise that they were very, very +clever, and sometimes found out things that even the black trackers did +not understand. The black went back to his work in silence. Presently he +grunted again. His quick eyes had noticed a grey woollen thread stamped +into the earth. He lifted it gingerly up in his hand and held it out to +the police. The sergeant took it, examined it carefully, and then, +without any comment, handed it round to the others. There was no need to +ask what it meant. All knew without being told that someone had lately +passed that way, and who could that someone be unless one of the +rangers? + +The black went back again to the trail, bending down close to the ground +for all the world like a little dog following the scent of the chase. He +turned sharply off into the bushes and the troop went after him. Here +and there--wherever the earth had chanced to be a little softer than +usual--one could see round depressions somewhat about the size of a +saucer, and one patch of damp soil gave a remarkably clear imprint of +the fibres of some material. + +"Clever chaps, by George!" the sergeant remarked. "They've got brains +among them." + +"How's that?" queried one of the police. + +"They've tried the old duffers' dodge of blanketing the horses' hoofs. +Sort of thing that works, too, unless a man happens to have his eyes +well open. Luckily I've stumbled up against this sort of thing before." + +The other man, who had his own ideas about the matter, nodded his head, +but otherwise made no comment. + +About ten o'clock the troopers debouched from the trees into a low-lying +stretch of land. One could not call it a gully; it was more of a +depression, a fault in the earth due to some local subsidence. On the +nearest ridge a prospector's hut was perched, from the chimney of which +a wisp of smoke ascended. When one of the mounted men dropped from the +saddle and opened the door he found no one in charge, though a dinner +was merrily simmering away on the fire. + +"Whoever he is he can't be far away," the sergeant commented. "He +wouldn't leave his dinner unless he was handy. Have a look for him, +boys. He might be able to tell us something." + +The men scattered in different directions down the depression, and +presently a shout from one of them announced that the prospector had +been found. He came toiling slowly up the slope, side by side with his +discoverer. He was a small wiry man, with a heavy iron-grey beard, and +his age, as well as one could guess, was something near to sixty. + +"You don't happen to have seen a body of men, horsemen, passing this way +late last night or early this morning?" the sergeant queried. + +"Nobody passed this way last night," the man answered in a colorless +voice. "Why?" + +"A gold escort was robbed yesterday evening," the sergeant said, "and +we've got information that the robbers came this way." + +The man turned slowly and studied the lower slopes of the distant range. +He saw, or seemed to see, something that interested him, and he stared +so long that the sergeant said impatiently, "Well, what about it?" + +"I was just wondering," said the little man in the same colorless voice. +"I was just wondering if that was them." + +"If who was?" the sergeant demanded. "Out with it, man, and don't keep +us waiting all day." + +"Last night," said the man distinctly, "there was a fire up on those +ranges. It wasn't a bush-fire. I know a bush-fire. It was just a tiny +little glow from here. I thought it was a fire showing through the open +door of a hut, until I remembered that nobody lived up there. It didn't +last long; it must have burnt out in ten minutes or so, so I knew that +it was started by some traveller. It wasn't a camp-fire and they weren't +cooking anything." + +"How do you know that?" the sergeant said quickly. + +"How do I know that?" the little man repeated slowly. "It's easy enough. +The fire was only alight ten minutes at the most, and you can't cook +anything or boil a billy in that time, I know." + +"The old chap's right," one of the troopers said in an undertone to his +superior. + +The sergeant nodded. He turned again to the old prospector. "You're sure +you didn't see anyone pass this way?" he queried. + +"No, I'm not sure," said the man. "I'm only saying that I didn't hear +anyone." + +"What do you mean by saying you're not sure that you didn't see anyone?" +the sergeant asked curiously. + +"When there's shadows in the trees," said the old man, "there's times +when you can't tell whether they're men or not. That's what I mean. I'm +only saying that I didn't hear anyone. I'd have heard horses." + +"The man's a hatter," the sergeant remarked as the troop galloped off +towards the ranges. "As mad as a March hare." + +The other grinned cheerfully. "Still there's a lot in what he said," he +answered. "Now that about the fire----" + +"I wonder why they lighted it," the sergeant cut-in. + +"Don't know," the other said. "What's the sense of worrying anyway? +We'll know soon enough. But don't you think we should have brought the +old chap along with us?" + +The sergeant shook his head. "What'd be the good?" he said. "He couldn't +do any more than he's done already." + +He swung round in his saddle and faced the troop. "Now, men," he said, +"we've got to put our best foot foremost. Those 'rangers are somewhere +ahead of us, making for the mountains. Keep your eyes skinned, for you +never know the minute we'll catch up to them. They can't have such a big +start of us, and they're heavily loaded at that." + +The troopers unslung their carbines and examined the loading, then, +satisfied that every preparation had been made, they set spurs to their +horses and cantered up the track that led to the ranges. + +It was Mr. Abel Cumshaw who first discovered the pursuers. Early in the +afternoon the two men commenced to ascend the mountains proper. Just +before they disappeared into the belt of timber that fringed the slopes +the younger man turned in his saddle and cast one last backward glance +at the valley they had left beneath them. Far away below them, in among +the misty shapes of the distant trees, he caught a glimpse of a +collection of dark little dots whose unfamiliar look puzzled him. He +called Mr. Bradby's attention to them, and that gentleman glanced at +them in an offhand way and pronounced them to be kangaroos. + +"Come on," he added in a different tone. "Hurry up with you there!" + +Mr. Cumshaw had no intention of moving until he was fully satisfied in +his own mind that the little black dots were really kangaroos. Something +seemed to whisper that they weren't. + +"They're not kangaroos," he said with conviction. He had caught the +glint of sunlight on metal, a brass button of a man's uniform, or +perhaps the polished barrel of a carbine. + +"Oh," said Mr. Bradby, "so you've tumbled." + +"They're police," Mr. Cumshaw stated. "That's what they are." + +"Didn't you know that, Abel? I guessed it as soon as I saw them. I'd +never confuse a trooper with a kangaroo. I only said that to--well, I +didn't want to scare you unnecessarily." + +"You needn't be afraid of that," said Mr. Cumshaw airily. "I'm in the +game for good or ill, and I'm taking all risks equally with you. It's as +much my funeral as yours." + +"It doesn't matter whose funeral it is," Jack Bradby said impatiently. +"We've got to get away and do it smart. You must remember that neither +of us knows anything at all about this country, and it's ten to one that +those infernal police have got a black tracker or some other imp of +Satan who'll be able to follow us, even if we left as little trace as so +many flies." + +"Where are we heading for anyway?" Abel Cumshaw enquired as he spurred +his horse alongside his companion's. + +"That's more than I can say," Bradby retorted. "If we'd had any gumption +we'd have explored the place before we took on this last job. But we +hadn't the time, and that's all there is to say about it. It's my +impression that this section of the State is as full of hiding-places as +ever the Blue Mountains or the Wombats were. If we only keep up this +spurt of ours we'll make a gully or a valley where we can hide for +months without a soul being a whit the wiser." + +"I hope so," said Cumshaw, in the manner of a man who has very grave +doubts. + +"Hold your breath for your work," Mr. Bradby advised. "You might need it +all yet." + +They had made good headway by this, and the path that they had picked +out took them every hour deeper into the unexplored heart of the +country. On every side of them stretched the unbroken fastnesses of the +primeval wilderness, sheer precipices dropping suddenly into infinite +space, jagged peaks towering dizzily into the misty vault of heaven, +quaintly situated valleys so masked by timber and brushwood that one +came across them only by accident. There is something in the naked face +of Nature, in the sheer magnificence of incredible heights and the +marvellous massiveness of big timber that somehow dwarfs man into +insignificance and makes him realise the puniness of his strength. There +was something in the scenes now opening up before the rangers that +subdued them and beat them into silence. There was beauty in the sight, +the soft eternal beauty of an unravished land, but over and above that +was the suggestion that the travellers were fighting not merely against +their kind but against the untrammelled forces of an all-powerful +wilderness. + +The time was early December, and the golden wattle in full bloom. From +end to end the ranges were a blaze of color, near at hand deep gold, +fading away in the distance into that hazy blue-grey peculiar to +Australian mountains. Hour by hour the men rode on in silence, at times +galloping down the slopes, at others crawling slowly and painfully up +hills that stretched apparently to heaven, hills that yet dropped +suddenly into space when one had almost given up all hope of ever +reaching the summit. + +They had lost all sight of the pursuers, though once Bradby caught a +glimpse of smoke far away to the east, smoke that he fancied came from +the mid-day fire of the troopers. + +They halted at sunset in the shadow of a clump of red gums and made the +first meal since morning. As a result of a hurried consultation they +decided to press on until midnight. But the horses were wearied with the +rough and constant travelling, and it took the better part of two hours +for them to cover a little under three miles. + +"They've got to have a rest and so have we," Bradby said finally. "The +pace is killing, and I'm quite satisfied that the police are taking it +fairly easy. We've got scared over nothing. They might not even be on +our track. At any rate I suggest we finish for the night and get what +sleep we can." + +Abel Cumshaw raised no objection to this--as a matter of fact he was +almost falling from his mount out of sheer saddle-weariness--so a halt +was called, the horses were unsaddled, the men unrolled their blankets +and settled down to slumber just as the silver ghost of the moon flooded +the place with its cool white light. + +It was broad daylight when they awoke, and the sun was already high up +in the heavens. + +"Somewhere about nine or ten o'clock," Cumshaw guessed. "We've slept in, +Jack." + +Bradby ruefully admitted that this was so, but excused it on the ground +that they would be better fitted for the day's work. + +"I'm hanged if I like this game," Cumshaw growled as they made a meagre +breakfast on almost the last of their rations. "The food's running +short, and it's only a matter of time until they wear us down. You know +what it means for us, Jack, if they catch us with the gold. Now I've got +an idea, and if we carry it out I see a chance of escaping scot-free. +The gold's weighing us down, so what we've got to do is to get rid of +it." + +"You're surely not going to throw it away after all we've gone through," +said Bradby, aghast at the proposal. + +"No, I'm not," Cumshaw told him. "What I suggest is that we hide it +somewhere handy, make a note of the spot, and then clear out of this +particular section for a time. We can easily keep afloat for a couple of +months, and when the hue and cry has died down, we can come back and dig +it up at our leisure. We'll gain nothing by sticking to it now and we'll +run a chance of losing everything." + +"Not a bad idea," Bradby agreed. "But the trouble's to find a suitable +spot." + +"We passed dozens of such places already, Jack. We're just as likely to +strike something as good or even better during the course of the day. +The whole country-side is honeycombed with hiding-places; it's like a +rabbit-warren." + +"There's nothing like being an optimist," Bradby said. "Have it your +way, Abel. Now the sooner you find some nice secure little spot the +better for us, I'm thinking. For one thing the food's running short, as +you just remarked, and for another I don't intend keeping up this +dodging game for ever. We can't last; they'll wear us down." + +"That's supposing they don't get tired and go home," said the cheerful +Mr. Cumshaw. + +"Not much chance of that," Mr. Bradby retorted. "I only wish they +would." + +During the morning Bradby's horse developed lameness, and, though the +two men slackened the pace in order to give it every chance, by mid-day +it could barely limp along. + +"This won't do," said Bradby in despair. "We're losing time we can ill +afford. All the same this old crock'll have to struggle on until +nightfall, and then we'll see whether we'll have to shoot it." + +"I don't like shooting a horse," Cumshaw remarked. "It's like murder." + +Bradby's only answer was a muttered oath. The trials of the Journey were +bringing out the worst side of the man, a side that Cumshaw had never +seen before. He eyed his companion thoughtfully. If the wilderness was +to get on Bradby's nerves at this early stage, Cumshaw could see that +there was likely to be very serious trouble before the end came. The air +in the highlands was laden with a freshness which, while it stung the +men to action, at the same time put a keen edge on their tempers. Both +of them were children of the warm, sun-kissed lowlands, and the +difference of even a few degrees of temperature had a remarkable effect +on them. With Abel Cumshaw it was such as to send a warm glow into his +cheeks; the cold bite of the air made his blood sparkle like new wine +and urged him on to fresh efforts. It affected Mr. Bradby in another and +a worse way. He became sullen, and there was a certain marked +vindictiveness in the way he spurred his lame horse on to exertions that +were plainly too much for it. Once or twice Abel was on the point of +remonstrating with him, but for the sake of peace he held his tongue and +waited, in the hope that the day would bring forth some measure of +relief. But nothing happened that morning, and the hope died within him. + +Late that day, when the pace had slowed down almost to a crawl, they +stumbled across the place by the simplest kind of accident. They had +been dropping down to lower levels the greater part of the day, and +somewhere about three o'clock in the afternoon--they were not quite sure +of the hour, since the sun was masked by the trees--they found +themselves in what looked like a narrow gully. Both sides of it were +lined with thick bushes of golden wattle that shut out all view on +either hand. There were shadows galore in this narrow gully, and the +place itself looked almost as dark as the entrance to the Pit. Cumshaw, +who had a classical education and had not been able to forget it, any +more than the fact that he had once been a gentleman, murmured under his +breath. + +"What's that?" Bradby asked sharply. + +Cumshaw repeated his quotation. "Facilis est descensus Averno," he said. + +"What does that mean?" Bradby enquired, in the tone of a man who +imagines he is being insulted in a language he does not understand. + +"It's easy to go to hell," Cumshaw translated. + +Bradby shot one sharp curious glance at him, but made no comment on what +he had said. They rode on in silence. + +Presently they came to a patch of ground that had been broken by the +wind or the rain, or perhaps both together. The shadows so fell that the +travellers did not realise the treacherous nature of the soil until they +were right in the middle of it. Cumshaw's horse floundered and would +have fallen on its knees had he not reined in sharply. This caused him +to cannon into his companion's mount. Bradby pulled back sharply, in +some way jarring his animal's sore leg as he did so. It reared up on its +haunches with the pain, and in the most approved manner bucked its rider +off. He shot up in the air, described a beautiful half-circle, and +sailed through the barrier of wattle like a human projectile. + +Cumshaw slipped off his horse with the quickness of thought. He had +enough presence of mind to tether both his own and Bradby's mount, and +then he cautiously parted the bushes. For the moment he could see +nothing but a great wall of golden blossoms, and then out of the depths +came Bradby's furious voice. He was cursing the horse and the slope and +everything and everyone within hearing in the simple and forceful +fashion of the Australian bushman. + +Cumshaw called to him and was answered with an oath. + +"Where are you?" he repeated. + +"Down here," said the voice, this time modifying its language. "Step +carefully or you'll come a cropper." + +Mr. Cumshaw pulled the bushes apart and found that he was standing on +the verge of a sheer descent. + +"Mind your eye," said the voice of the still invisible Mr. Bradby. "I've +found the very place we've been looking for." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE HIDDEN VALLEY. + + +Abel Cumshaw caught at the bushes to save himself from slipping and +turned a curious eye on the scene before him. Really there wasn't very +much for him to see. Bradby had fallen into a miniature valley so small +that it looked like the creation of a child. The place was heavily +timbered, and almost all definable features were masked beneath the +trees. Abel saw even in the first glance that here was just that ideal +hiding-place for which they had been searching. Softly and cautiously he +commenced to descend. The slope was slippery with green grass, and he +finished the last few yards with a run. He came down amongst a lot of +bracken and fern, and suffered no worse harm than the shock of a sudden +stoppage. Mr. Bradby, he saw, was sitting almost buried in a mass of +bracken, and looking much cheerier than his recent utterance would seem +to suggest. + +"Are you hurt?" Cumshaw asked him. He held out a helping hand. Mr. +Bradby struggled to his feet and smiled at his questioner. + +"Hurt? No," he said. "Only surprised. Why, Abel, here's the very place +we want. We could hide here for years, and they could be scouring the +country for us, and them not a penny the wiser. That tumble of mine was +just the luckiest thing imaginable. You talk about falling into hell! +Why, man, we've fallen into heaven, and if we don't make the best use we +can of the place we're the biggest duffers alive." + +"How are we to get the horses down here?" queried the practical Mr. +Cumshaw. + +Mr. Bradby eyed the slope down which he had come so precipitately, and +then pursed up his lips. + +"It don't look so easy from here," he said at length. "And from what I +can see this place is walled in all round." + +"Whether it is or not," said Cumshaw, "we've got to get those horses +down, and get them down at once." + +"But how?" + +"That's what we've got to find out," said Cumshaw. And with that he +commenced to climb up the slope again. It was hard work, much harder +than coming down, but in the end he managed it. When he reached the top +he turned, to find that Bradby was almost at his heels. He surveyed the +place with the eye of a trained bushman; then he said, "We can manage +it, Jack. It's a case of sliding them down, but once we get them started +they'll go right enough." + +"We'll give it a try," said Mr. Bradby. His usual good humor was fast +re-asserting itself now that they had reached a haven of comparative +safety, and he was ready to try any scheme that promised even the +smallest chance of success. + +Without wasting any further words on the matter the two men scrambled +through the bushes and made their way towards the horses. The lame +animal had quite recovered from its fright, and suffered its owner to +lead it up the slight rise to the wattles, though there it drew back as +if conscious of the drop beneath. But by dint of prodding and coaxing +Bradby forced it through the crackling brush, and then, with a wild +whinny of fear, it lost its footing and slid down the slope in an +avalanche of grass and twigs. Cumshaw's mount made the descent in fine +style, and the two men followed. + +"Now," said Bradby, when they stood once more on level ground, "the +further we get into this timber the better, I say. I don't suppose any +passer-by would be likely to notice that we've come down here, do you?" + +"All things considered," Mr. Cumshaw said slowly, "we've made little +mess. We've got to thank that grassy slope for that. If it had been dry +earth there'd have been tracks enough in all conscience. Yes, I think we +can reasonably say that we've no need to fear anything--unless +accidents." + +As near as they could judge the valley was about a mile across at its +widest, but it merged so gently into the further side of the ranges that +it was almost impossible to say exactly. The wood grew thicker as the +men advanced, until presently it was with difficulty that they could +make their way forward. + +"Getting pretty close," Bradby said at length. + +Cumshaw nodded. He was too busy thinking over certain little +peculiarities of the wood to take much notice of his companion's +remarks. His quick eye had seen little cuts in the trees, bits of bark +that had been chipped off here and there, and the sight set him +wondering. The cuts were curiously like the blazing of a trail. They +were regular, they were all about the same height on the tree-trunks, +and they looked as if they had been made with an axe, not the crude +stone weapon of an aborigine, but the sharp steel axe of a white man. +Yet the place seemed deserted, and in all the air was that sense of +utter desolation and absence of life that only those who have lived +close to Nature can feel and understand. + +"We're not the first here," Cumshaw said suddenly. + +Bradby turned on him in alarm. "What d'y' mean?" he asked indistinctly. + +"Some of the trees are blazed," Cumshaw pointed out. "The cuts are +clean, and that means they've been done with an axe. But they're all +weather-worn, so it must have been some time ago." + +"I don't like the look of it all the same," Bradby said despondently. +"It means that someone else has stumbled on this place--it doesn't +matter much whether it was yesterday or ten years ago--and what has been +done before will almost certainly be done again. If those troopers come +this way----" + +"What's the good of crossing the bridge before you come to it?" Cumshaw +interrupted. "We've been lucky so far, and who's to say our luck won't +hold out till the end?" + +"It's the end I'm looking at," Bradby said gloomily. "It might be the +sort of end neither of us'd fancy." + +Mr. Cumshaw made no immediate reply. He was peering very intently +through the boles of the trees as if he was not quite sure that what he +saw was really there. + +"What are you looking at?" Bradby demanded irritably. + +"If that's not a bit of a clearing and a hut on the edge of it, I'm a +lunatic," Abel Cumshaw said. + +"Hell!" ejaculated Bradby, and he in his turn peered through the trees. + +"There's no smoke coming from it," Cumshaw said comfortingly. "It looks +deserted. I daresay it's been like that for years." + +"I don't like this place," Bradby remarked with naive irrelevance. "It +fair gives me the creeps. There's spooks about here." + +"If you talk that way," said Cumshaw fiercely, "I'll put a bullet +through you. That sort of talk's only fit for children. You're not a +child. You ought to have more sense. There's things here doubtless that +you and I don't understand, but they're quite capable of a rational +explanation, so don't go digging up any stuff about ghosts until you +find you can't explain them any other way. There's the hut in front of +us, and either there's someone in it or there isn't. If there is, we've +got to use our wits; if there isn't, the game's ours." + +"Have it your own way," said Bradby. "I'm game enough when I know what +I'm tackling. I only mentioned I didn't like the feel of the place, and +I don't see that that gives you any call to say what you have." + +"We'll call it off until we've investigated," Cumshaw replied. "You stay +here with the horses, and I'll creep forward a bit and see if anyone's +home. All the same, I'm willing to bet that the place's deserted." + +"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," suggested Bradby. "However, you go off +as you say and I'll wait here for you." + +Abel Cumshaw threw the reins to his companion, slid his revolver +holsters round to the front within easy reach, should he need the +weapons they contained, and slipped through the trees with the silence +of a marauding tom-cat. Bradby watched him with some misgiving. No man +could say with certainty just what secret the dilapidated hut held, and +Bradby's state of mind was such that he took the gloomier view of the +situation. He would not have been very much surprised to see half a +dozen troopers issue from the hut. He would have taken it as the +inevitable ending of such an adventure. He failed to understand the +natural cheerfulness with which Cumshaw faced the situation. He was +bright and volatile enough himself when dealing with the ordinary +man--his courage was of that average quality that is always at its best +when exercised before an admiring or frightened audience--but the +abnormal brought home to him his own futility of purpose and his natural +helplessness. While realising all this he was not man enough to rise +above and overcome the limitations of his spirit. + +Cumshaw swung round the corner of the hut and out of sight. Then it was +that Bradby began to feel absolutely deserted, and the queer +oppressiveness of the place descended on him as one shuts down the lid +of a box. He was not the type of man who finds companionship in animals, +and the nearness of the horses in nowise mitigated his fear. For he was +afraid, unashamedly afraid, though of what he could no more have said +than he could fly. He knew without understanding how the knowledge came +to him that the valley was filled with the ghosts of dead things, dead +trees, dead leaves, and perhaps dead hopes. His nerve was going; the +intolerably close atmosphere of the wood brought little beads of +perspiration out on him, and when he brushed his forehead with a +trembling hand he was surprised to find it wet. + +The horses stirred uneasily, and the lame animal gave a low whinny. + +Then in the next instant the eternal silence of the valley was broken by +a human voice. The suddenness of it startled Bradby, and it wasn't until +he saw Cumshaw waving to him that he realised that the sound he had +heard was his companion's "Coo-ee." He loosed his hold on the reins, +allowing the two horses to wander where they might, and commenced to run +towards the hut. Even as he ran his faculties collected themselves, and +when he reached the corner of the hut he was almost his own man again. + +Cumshaw eyed him curiously as he pulled up. "Startled you a bit, didn't +I?" he said. + +"I thought something had happened to you when I heard you call," Bradby +answered, a trifle untruthfully. + +"Don't you worry about me," Cumshaw said with affected unconcern, though +something in the man's nervous tone troubled him in a way he could not +define. "I've found the old chap who made the marks on the trees," he +ran on. + +"Where?" Bradby demanded. But he looked towards the hut-door +apprehensively. + +"He's in there," Cumshaw said, following the other's glance, "but there +isn't anything to worry about. He's as dead as a door-nail." + +"Dead," Bradby repeated dazedly. + +Cumshaw nodded. "This many a day," he said in semi-explanation. "But +come in and see what there is to be seen." + +As if perfectly sure of his companion's acquiescence he turned and +walked into the hut. After a moment's hesitation Bradby followed. The +place smelt a trifle musty, and all the air was full of the subtle reek +of decay. It was rather dim in the hut, and at first Mr. Bradby could +see nothing but some indefinite shapes that might be anything at all. +Gradually his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom, and in the +farthest corner he spied a rough bed of planks. + +"That's him," said Mr. Cumshaw irreverently, and stirred something with +his foot. + +Mr. Bradby looked a little closer this time. The something that Cumshaw +had stirred turned out to be the whitened skeleton of a man. The hideous +thing about it was that it was not stretched out on the plank bed; it +was propped up, as if the man had died while sitting. A rusted gun lay +in line with the thing's left thigh, and Bradby, following the muzzle +with a trained eye, saw that it was pointed at the man's head. + +"Suicide," said Cumshaw. "Look at his head. He's blown out what little +brains he had." + +He was right. The frontal bones of the skull were shattered and twisted +by the force of the charge; they gave the rest of the face a ghastly, +leering look which turned Bradby physically sick. The other man was +evidently troubled by no such qualms, for he loosened the gun from the +bony hand that had clung to it so desperately through all those years, +and tumbled the skeleton itself on to the plank bed. + +"I'm going outside," said Mr. Bradby suddenly, and disappeared through +the doorway with suspicious alacrity. + +Mr. Cumshaw laughed softly. "Weak stomach," he murmured. "Well, +someone's got to clear this old chap out, and, as it's certain to be me, +I might as well do it first as last." + +At that he gathered the white, clean-picked bones up in his arms, +carried his burden through the doorway, and deposited it carefully on +the grass outside the hut. His eye lighted on Mr. Bradby, who was +sitting on the ground some distance away, looking very pale, and having +all the appearance of a man who had reluctantly parted with his lunch. + +"What the deuce are you doing?" he asked in tones that betrayed a +certain amount of trepidation not unmixed with vague horror. + +"Evicting the late tenant," Mr. Cumshaw grinned with cheerful +inconsequence. + +"Why?" + +There was more than a question in the quick monosyllable. It contained +also a hint of protest. + +"Because we're going to camp inside the hut, and two's company and +three's more of a crowd than I like. This old chap can stop out here for +the night; I don't suppose he'll mind it much. If he's gone to the Abode +of the Blessed he'll be above worrying over such mundane matters, and if +he's anywhere else he'll be too much occupied to do anything but attend +to the burnt spots." + +"You shouldn't speak like that of the dead," Bradby said solemnly. "It's +not right." + +"If we stopped to consider whether a thing was right or wrong before we +did it," Cumshaw retorted, "you and I wouldn't be here this evening. If +you're wise, you'll leave all that talk till morning. The shadows are +closing in, and we'll have the night on us before we know where we are. +I'd suggest that we catch the horses while the light's still good. You +must remember they've got those saddle-bags on them still. Of course, +there's just enough food to make a meal for a pair of small-sized +tom-cats, but I fancy we'll manage on it till morning. Who knows what we +may find then? Perhaps a kangaroo, or at the worst a native-bear." + +Bradby rose reluctantly to his feet, and, with a nervous glance at the +remains of the unknown, followed his partner in crime. The horses had +not strayed far; they were busily cropping the grass, and seemed quite +content with their lot. The two men unloaded the saddle-bags and carried +the contents into the hut. Then they hobbled the horses and turned them +loose for the night. + +The shadows were gathering in by this, and already the trees were full +of misty shapes that had no relation to fact. The bulk of the hills shut +out the last rays of the sun, though the western sky was still faintly +tinged with crimson. Just as they entered the hut Cumshaw paused for a +moment and ran his eye over the scene. The place seemed peaceful enough, +but he had that queer sense of the bushman, a sense almost amounting to +an instinct, that told him that there was trouble ahead. He shook the +feeling off almost immediately and entered the hut. Bradby, despite his +dislike of the conglomeration of bones on the grass outside, lingered a +second or so longer. There was a light in the eastern sky, perhaps a +faint reflection of the glow of the dying day, that lit up the hump of +the nearest hill. It was practically bare of vegetation; only a solitary +tree stood a lone sentinel on its very summit, showing black against the +horizon. + +The thought that sprung into Bradby's mind at that was that here was a +landmark which there could be no possibility of mistaking. Already +certain plans were germinating in his brain, and he saw, or fancied he +saw, a way of turning this latest discovery to practical use. The +bleached bones in front of him, too, became a means to an end, and, with +the smile of a man who sees the way suddenly made clear, he too entered +the hut in his turn. + +Cumshaw was busily engaged in laying a fire in the centre of the hut, +taking care, however, that its glow would not show through the open +doorway. He looked up as Bradby entered and said, "I think we're safe in +starting a fire here. It can't be seen by anyone crossing the hills, +though there isn't much likelihood of that, and all the smoke we make +won't do us any harm. There's always a certain amount of mist in a place +like this, and a man a mile away wouldn't be able to tell the +difference." + +"Go ahead," said Mr. Bradby quietly. "You know what you are doing." + +The compliment in the last remark was desperately like an insult, but +Cumshaw did not seem to notice anything out of the way, for he bent down +to his work and whistled cheerfully while he coaxed the fire into a +blaze. Presently it was burning brightly, the billy was filled with +water from the water-bottle, and tea was in a fair way of being +prepared. "Great place, this," Cumshaw said presently. + +"Great place," Mr. Bradby assented. "A man can die here without anyone +being any the wiser." + +Mr. Cumshaw made no reply to that, but the corners of his mouth +tightened as if he suspected some hidden meaning beneath that smooth +remark. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT. + + +Just as the first rays of the rising sun slanted into the hut Mr. Bradby +stirred uneasily, threw out one arm, rolled over on his side, and in an +instant was wide-awake. He sat up abruptly and gazed around. Abel +Cumshaw was still sleeping peacefully, his head pillowed on the +saddle-bags that contained the plunder. Mr. Bradby smiled grimly at the +sight. Softly, without waking his companion, he rose from his rough bed +and glided to the open doorway. He stood there for a moment, drinking in +the fresh morning air. + +The sun was just coming up behind the solitary tree that had so +interested him the previous evening, and he noticed that from his +position in the dead-centre of the doorway the sun and the tree were +right in line. Again that curious, humorless smile flickered about the +corners of his mouth. He stood meditating for a minute or so, then, with +an assumption of carelessness that he did not feel, began pacing due +east. He had not taken half a dozen strides before he turned at right +angles to his previous course, and just as nonchalantly continued his +stroll northward. This time he covered about double the distance, then +stopped short and scratched a cross on the ground with the toe of his +boot. + +When he returned to the hut Abel Cumshaw was just getting up. + +"Hallo, Jack," he greeted Bradby. "Been stirring long?" + +"No," said Bradby shortly. Then, perhaps fancying his tone was a little +too abrupt, he continued, "I've just been for a bit of a tour round." + +"What do you think of the place?" Cumshaw asked casually. But he did not +look up at his mate; he kept his eyes studiously on the ground. + +"Just the sort of place we could make our headquarters," said Bradby, +with an enthusiasm that even the forced restraint of his tone could not +hide. + +"I don't think we'll have much need of headquarters once this is over +and done with," Cumshaw hinted. + +"Maybe not," Bradby replied. + +Cumshaw turned to the plank bed and lifted up the saddle-bags, one in +each hand. "Don't you think we should get rid of these?" he remarked. + +"I'd almost forgotten about them," Bradby answered with an assumed +indifference. "Yes, we'll 'tend to them as soon as we've had something +to eat." + +"While you're talking about something to eat," Cumshaw told him, putting +the bags down again, "I'd like to remind you that we're right on the +last of the tucker. There's just enough flour for the day." + +"I wouldn't worry about that," Bradby said. "There's sure to be plenty +of game about in a thickly-wooded country like this." + +Cumshaw nodded and dropped on his knees beside the embers of the +evening's fire. In a few moments he was busy coaxing them into a blaze. +Bradby stood behind him, watching the sweep of his shoulders with +calculating eyes. Once his hand strayed almost unconsciously towards his +revolver, then, with a gesture, half of horror, half of dismay, at the +significance of his action, he twisted on his heel and strode to the +door. He turned then, blocking the light with his figure, so that his +face was just a black expressionless mask. + +"It wouldn't be a bad idea," he suggested, "if I looked about for a +likely spot to bury that stuff." + +"Go ahead," said Cumshaw coolly, as if it were the most natural +suggestion in the world. + +Without further parley Bradby walked over to the spot he had marked +earlier in the morning. Bending down, he commenced to dig in the soft +soil with the point of his sheath-knife. The ground was easily enough +worked, and in less than half an hour he had excavated a hole of close +on to three feet in depth. He deepened it another six inches or so, and +then stood up with a smile of the utmost complacency on his face. + +"Nice spot you've chosen," said a voice at his elbow. He started at the +sound. He had not heard Cumshaw approach, and the idea that his mate +could come and go in such absolute silence filled him with dismay. +Already the gold fever had seized hold of him and made him suspicious of +every untoward move. Perhaps he fancied that some similar plan to his +own was evolving in Cumshaw's brain. + +"Yes, it is a nice spot," he answered. "It's easy enough to find once +you know where it is, but it isn't the kind of place a stranger would +blunder on." + +Cumshaw eyed the hole in the ground, and then looked towards the hut, as +if taking his bearings. Bradby noticed him and interposed hastily, "I've +got the measurement of the place. Have you a piece of paper I can write +it down on?" + +Cumshaw ran hastily through his pockets. "I haven't a bit," he declared. + +"Neither have I," said Bradby. "However, we'll have to keep it in our +heads. It's just ten feet from here to the hut-door." + +"It doesn't look it," Cumshaw said promptly. + +"It doesn't," his mate agreed. "But distance is deceptive here. How's +the meal going?" + +"Just about ready," Cumshaw told him. "I came to call you." + +The two men walked side by side to the hut. At the entrance Cumshaw +paused. "Nearer fourteen than ten," he said thoughtfully. + +"Very likely," said Bradby indifferently. "What about that meal? I'm as +hungry as a hunter." + +They were on short commons. Bradby ate heartily, remarking once that +there'd be food enough to go round to-morrow. Cumshaw laughed and said +he hoped so, but that to-morrow was a day that never came to some +people. Bradby absently ignored the challenge in Cumshaw's reply and +kept silence for the rest of the time. + +After breakfast the two of them took the saddle-bags down to the hole, +placed them inside, and then stamped the earth tightly down on top of +them. + +"Now that's done," said Bradby, with an air of relief, "the sooner we +get out of here the better." + +"How about old bones over there?" Cumshaw said, pointing to the +skeleton. + +"Better sling him into the bushes," Bradby suggested, all his +superstitious fears vanishing now that it was broad daylight. + +"Poor old sinner," said Cumshaw as he lifted up the remains in his +strong arms. "It might just as easily be one of us." + +"Don't talk like that!" Bradby cried. "It's tempting Providence." + +"You and I, Jack, have tempted that same all the days of our lives, and +we're likely to keep on until the end, so why growl about this +particular incident?" + +Bradby muttered something unintelligible, and Cumshaw, who was all for +haste now that their work was finished, did not ask him to repeat his +remark. + +Both horses had cropped their fill of grass, and the lame one seemed +slightly better. Its limp was not so pronounced and the swelling had +gone down. + +"It's out of the question getting them out the way we got them in," +Cumshaw said. "I wonder if there's any other way." + +"Nothing like having a try," Bradby advised. "That darned old hermit +must have come in some way, and I don't reckon it was the way we came +in. If I was you I'd try over there towards the west. The hills look low +enough." + +So they turned off at right angles to their path and presently were +edging their way through the wood again. As Bradby had surmised, the +ground rose steadily, though it was very rough. Big boulders lay about +the ground amongst the trees, which were thinning off. Soon they emerged +on to what was open country, and speedily found themselves right under a +ledge of rock which rose sheerly above their heads to a height of twenty +or thirty feet. + +"Blocked!" said Bradby savagely. + +"No," said Cumshaw in a tone that implied he refused to acknowledge +defeat. "There must be some way out, Jack, and I'm going to look until I +find it. Here, you take charge of the horses and I'll fossick out +something." + +He was gone for ten minutes, ten long minutes that Bradby occupied in +cursing the valley in particular and the rest of the world in general. +Then there came a cry from the height above him, and, looking up, he saw +Abel Cumshaw waving to him. Next instant the man disappeared and a few +seconds later swung down through the rocks. + +"It's no use," he said. "We can't take the horses out here. We'll just +have to leave them. A man can crawl up through a sort of funnel in the +wall of the rock, but you'd want a sling to get the horses along." + +"Can't we go back and try the way we came in?" + +Cumshaw shook his head decisively. "No," he said. "It won't do to risk +it. They just tumbled down yesterday when we brought them, but you must +remember that we had to cling on with our hands and feet when we went +back. We'll have to jettison the horses." + +"You said it was murder yesterday when I suggested shooting them," +Bradby reminded him. + +"We had a chance of saving them then," Cumshaw argued, "but now it's +either them or us. If we turn them loose, the police'll find them sooner +or later. If we shoot them, it's over and done with, and even if anyone +does wander in here by accident he's not going to come this way. If we +let them roam about the valley, they naturally go over to the other side +where the grass is, and the first fool that blundered in would see them +and begin to wonder how they got there. You never want to give the other +man food for thought, Jack. Once he starts thinking, it's only a matter +of time until he noses out everything." + +"Shoot the horses, Abel, and have done with it. I'm sick and tired of +talking. It's high time we did something." + +The horses were shot then and there as the easiest way out of it, and +when the echoes had died away the two men crawled cautiously up the +funnel-like opening in the rock. Footholds were precarious enough, but +by dint of hanging on by teeth and claw the partners at length forced +their way to the top and stood on the ledge that overhung the valley. +Across the smoky sea of timber they caught sight of the long line of +golden wattle through which they had broken their way the previous +evening. It occurred to both in almost the same instant that no man +would be very likely to blunder in by chance. The place was securely +hidden from view on three sides at least, and on the fourth, the side +where they now stood, the approach was so difficult and, as they learnt +later, dangerous that a man must have some very good reason for +attempting it. Cumshaw it was who first put his thoughts into words. + +"I can't help thinking," he said, "that the old chap must have come over +from this side. Most likely he was dodging someone." + +"I wouldn't be surprised at that," said the other. + +"I don't think he'd have found the other way in a month of Sundays. +However, let's get along. We'll have to make haste now we're without +horses, What's it to be? Riverina or Adelaide?" + +"I favor the Riverina," Cumshaw said. "I'm more familiar with the +country, and they've got nothing against me up there." + +"Riverina it is then," Bradby agreed with a laugh. "All places are the +same to me. I've no more liking for one than for another." + +So it came about that the valley faded away into the dim distance south +of them, and presently they were toiling across the barrier of mountains +that cuts Northern Victoria off from the rest of the State. + +The tragedy happened that evening. An hour or so before sunset they +decided to camp hard by a little creek they had just discovered. +Cumshaw, as usual, tended to the fire, and Bradby, after idling about +for a while, suggested that he had better go hunting, in the hope of +being able to obtain fresh meat for the meal. + +"All right," said Cumshaw. "Go ahead. But don't be any longer than you +can help." + +"I'll be back as soon as I can," Bradby answered, and slipped into the +shadows that were already gathering thick and fast. Abel Cumshaw worked +away, whistling softly to himself the while. He was so busy doing one +thing and another that it was not until darkness fell suddenly and +completely on the scene that he realised how quickly time had passed. +His first thought then was that Bradby was away much longer than he had +any right to be. It occurred to him that Bradby might have gone much +further than he intended and by some mischance had lost his way. He +decided to wait a while longer, and then, if Bradby did not appear in +the meantime, to go in search of him. But the time passed, the fire died +away to red hot coals, and the shadows fell thickly on everything; but +still Bradby did not come. At last Cumshaw rose swiftly to his feet in +the manner of a man who has decided on the course he must take and means +to stick to it unswervingly. With quick yet noiseless steps he stole +through the trees, occasionally swinging a sharp glance to the left or +right. But it was very dark in the woods, and it was impossible to tell +shape from shadow. A regiment might have been hiding behind the boles of +the trees without him being one whit the wiser. He had profound +objections against shouting his whereabouts to his mate--his woods' +instinct warned him never to reveal his presence unless there was no +other way out--but he saw speedily enough that there was no other course +left for him to take. + +He made a megaphone of his hands, and sent a long-drawn "Coo-ee" out to +wake the echoes. The sound reverberated from the hills and died rumbling +away in the hollows. For some seconds after that there was absolute +silence, and then somewhere ahead of him he caught a very faint noise as +of long grass rustling in the wind. But the air was absolutely devoid of +motion. The sound puzzled Cumshaw; the very stealthiness of it convinced +him that no animal had made it, yet he could not understand why Bradby +should exercise such unnecessary caution. + +Then in an instant he knew. The black wall ahead of him was split by a +pencil of flame, the silence of the forest crackled into sound, and the +whip-like crack of a revolver echoed and re-echoed. A bullet whistled +dangerously close to Cumshaw. He swore under his breath and tugged +furiously at his own revolver. Bending almost double he sprinted towards +the shelter of the nearest tree, while at the same instant the +stranger's weapon cracked again. Something stung his ear. He put up his +hand, and the warm blood spurted through his fingers. + +He compressed himself into the smallest possible space behind the tree +and then fired in the direction of the last shot. He allowed a short +interval to elapse and then fired again. The other man must have seen +the flashes, but he made no attempt to answer them. The moment the first +shot was fired Cumshaw realised, in a flash of intuition, that his +assailant was none other than Jack Bradby. The knowledge made him +extremely angry, for such black treachery was the last thing he had +expected to have to contend with. He saw now that it was the old case of +thieves falling out over the division of the spoils, and that Jack +Bradby was determined to stop at nothing, even murder, in order to gain +the whole of the plunder. He continued firing with a savage fury that +boded ill for his late mate. + +The thing itself happened suddenly. One moment he was peering out into +the darkness in an effort to locate his enemy; the next strong sinewy +hands were around his throat choking the life out of him. With that +clarity of vision that comes to a man perhaps once in a lifetime, he +saw, even in the all-pervading darkness, the shadowy face that was +pressed close to his own. The eyes that looked into his were dim pools +of evil light, faintly phosphorescent like those of a cat, and the face +that framed them was contorted into a malignant leer of triumph. That +much he saw before the darkness crushed him out of existence and all +things earthly faded from his vision. + +Bradby felt the man's body go limp in his arms, and he quickly thrust +into its holster the revolver with which he had dealt the final blow. +There was a steamy smell of blood on the thick, damp air, and when Mr. +Bradby drew away his right hand he found it warm and wet. + +"Christ!" he said in a tone of fear, "I've killed him!" That was +precisely what he had intended to do from the very first, but now his +plan had apparently fructified, he felt a vague horror at the result of +his handiwork. He opened Cumshaw's shirt and put his hand over the man's +heart. He could not detect even the faintest flutter. + +Then swiftly, with many glances about him as he moved, he carried the +body to the undergrowth and very gently laid it on the ground. But he +failed to notice that as he bent down a flat piece of wood had slipped +from the pocket of his shirt and had fallen soundlessly into the soft +green grass at the side of Abel Cumshaw's body. + +Five minutes later silence reigned. Only the heavy scent of the wattle +was mingled with another odor--the warm, sickly smell of freshly-shed +blood. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +EXPIATION. + + +Unaccountably enough Bradby went no further than the dying embers of the +fire. His first act was to build a big blaze, for he was already +becoming afraid. He could not define even to himself just what this fear +was; it was not so much horror at what he had done as a feeling that his +sins would yet find him out. Some strange attraction kept him close to +the scene of the tragedy, and all night he sat by the fire with his head +in his hands and his eyes staring at the ever-widening ring of white +ashes. Towards morning he fell into a doze, but scarcely had the first +rays of the sun penetrated through the leafy mantle of the trees than he +was wide-awake. There were dark rings under his eyes, and the eyes +themselves looked strangely tired and haggard. He glanced at his hands +with a faint idea that something had been wrong with them the night +before. He was disgusted to find that they were caked with dried blood, +and a feeling almost akin to nausea shook his frame. He made all the +haste he could to the creek and washed every speck of blood and dirt +off, so that when he had finished his hands were clean and spotless. + +He shot a parrot for breakfast and made a gruesome meal off the raw +flesh. There was nothing else to eat, for the flour had all been +finished the previous day. After the morning's meal he brightened up and +set off northward with a brisk stride. The money was safe enough in the +valley for the present, he decided, and a couple of months in the +Riverina would not only not do him any harm, but would allow the hue and +cry time to die down. After that he would come back and get the gold, +and this time there would be no question of division; it would be his, +all of it. Now that the daylight had come he could think of the dark +figure suddenly growing limp in his arms and the smell of fresh blood +mixing with the scent of the wattles without the slightest misgiving. He +had no fear of it; he certainly felt no remorse. The further he got from +the scene of the murder, the lighter grew his spirits. He turned the +situation over in his mind and found abundant satisfaction in it; his +primitive logic told him that there was no evidence against him. + + * * * * * + +It is doubtful who was the most surprised, the troopers or Bradby when +he stumbled unexpectedly into their camp that evening. They were not the +men who had been following the bushrangers from the start, but another +body, warned by wire and hurriedly sent out from Murtoa. For some +unexplained reason the camp-fire had been allowed to die down, and so +there was no red glow to warn Bradby of their proximity. He had +blundered into the midst of the men before he quite realised what had +happened, and, when he made a wild dash for safety, he found that all +way of escape had been cut off. He was hemmed in on every side. The +troop was in charge of an officer of more than average intelligence, and +he instantly jumped to the correct conclusion. Had Bradby not lost his +head and endeavored to escape, he might have been able to pass himself +off as a prospector or something of the sort, but the mere sight of his +all-too-evident anxiety to get away wakened the suspicions of the +sergeant. The Grampians and the country surrounding them had hitherto +been singularly free from crime, and no malefactors from other parts of +the State were known to be at large in that neighbourhood. Obviously +this man, who displayed such a disinclination to meet the police, must +be a criminal, and just as obviously must he be one of the men wanted +for the gold escort robbery. The sergeant decided in one lightning flash +on a plan that he hoped would startle the man into betraying himself. +The moment Bradby turned to retreat and found himself hemmed in, the +other walked over to him, scrutinised him carefully, and in the same +instant placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "I arrest you in the +Queen's name for the robbery of the Gold Escort on the night of 1st +December." + +Bradby's jaw dropped and he stared open-mouthed at the other. He could +not understand the process of almost instantaneous reasoning by which +the officer had arrived at this conclusion, and the swift scrutiny the +man had given him convinced him that in some strange and unaccountable +way a description of him had been obtained and circulated. The man had +recognised him, of that he felt sure. + +All round him were staring policemen, watching him intently with eyes +that were no less full of astonishment than his own. They could not +fathom the reasons that actuated their chief, but they realised, all of +them, that the man before them must be in some guilty way connected with +the robbery. His very manner told them that. + +The chief uttered the usual warning: "It is my duty to warn you that +anything you say will be used in evidence----" He got so far when Bradby +awoke from his stupor. He gave no warning of his intention, but his +doubled fist shot out, caught the other on the point of the jaw and +dropped him in a heap on the ground. Then with the swiftness of thought +he leaped to one side, pulling his revolver loose at the same instant. +He had just the smallest fraction of a second's start of the police, and +in the flurry of the moment he actually burst through the cordon that +had formed around him. The next instant the carbines of the police +commenced to bark. Bradby stumbled, recovered himself, and fired over +his shoulder. Several of the troopers were already on horseback, and it +was only a matter of riding him down. He saw this himself, and his +futile shot was designed to stop one at least of the horses. However, it +went wide. He slipped behind a tree and began snap-shooting at the +advancing mounted men. They spread out fanwise, thus coming at him from +three sides at once. He moved slightly in order to get a better aim, and +in doing so unwittingly exposed himself. One of the troopers, who had +discarded his carbine in favor of a revolver, took a flying shot. Bradby +lurched from behind the tree, clasped his hands to his left side and +slipped down on to the grass. + +When they reached him the blood was welling out of his side, and they +saw that he was mortally wounded. The man who had fired the fatal shot +dropped on his knees beside him and lifted up his head. Bradby's face +was ashy pale, even in the faint moonlight one could see that, but he +was still conscious. + +"It's no use," he panted. "I'm done." + +"Where is the gold and where are your mates?" the man asked, conscious +that a word from the dying bushranger would solve everything. Bradby's +frame shook spasmodically, and when the other looked again there was +blood on his pale lips. + +"Through the lung," muttered one of the others who had some knowledge of +medical science. + +The first man repeated his question in another form. + +Bradby looked at him with a strangely inscrutable face and with eyes +that were already darkening with the shadow of death. + +"Where's the gold? Where's ... my ... mates?" The last three words were +almost whispered. + +"Yes," said the trooper eagerly. "Where are they?" + +The dying man moved his lips, but no sound issued from them. The other +bent down closer to him. + +"That," said the bushranger with long and painful pauses between each +word, "you ... will ... never ... know." + +And with that last taunt on his lips he died. + +"Game to the end," the trooper said to his comrades with an admiration +he made no effort to hide. + + * * * * * + +The blow had not killed Abel Cumshaw. He lay unconscious for the better +part of the night, and even when the day dawned he was too weak at first +to do more than crawl a few paces at the most. His head was throbbing, +his mouth was a raging furnace, and all his limbs felt as if they had +been racked and twisted. When daylight came at length he lay still for a +while, trying to recollect what had happened. But his mind was a perfect +blank and he himself was a man without an identity. The blow that had +knocked him unconscious had somehow affected his memory, and he knew no +more about himself than he did about the man in the moon. Something +terrible had happened, something in which he had played a very prominent +part, that much he realised; but beyond that simple fact his +recollection did not extend. He groped about in the grass in the hope +that he might find something that would give him a clue to the +situation. His hand fell on his revolver. That at least was tangible, +but there was nothing enlightening about it. Further search revealed a +small flat piece of wood. He picked it up curiously and stared at it. +Two or three sentences had been hurriedly scratched on its smooth +surface with the point of a sharp knife, but though they were +intelligible enough they did not appear to refer to anything concerning +him. The mere fact that he had been lying almost on top of the wood +struck him as strange, and in a moment of unusual thoughtfulness he +slipped it into his pocket. + +It was bright day by then, and the warmth of the sun seemed to revive +him to a marvellous extent. He got on his feet more by sheer will-power +than by any sudden accession of strength. He found that he could stagger +along, though his pace was necessarily slow and his course very erratic. +Some uncharted sense, instinct perhaps, led him along the track to the +creek where he had pitched his camp the previous evening. There was a +dim familiarity about the place that puzzled him. He felt in some absurd +way that he should recognise it, and he was both angry and surprised +that he could not. He found the remains of the parrot that Bradby had +eaten for breakfast, and he wondered vaguely who the man might be who +had been so close to him that morning. His wonder was such an impersonal +thing that he did not connect his own condition with the fact of the +other man's presence. Something had given way inside his head, that +something that controlled rational and consecutive memory. He sat down +on the bank of the creek and gazed into space. It would be incorrect to +say that he was dazed or that he behaved like a man in a dream. Those +are stock terms that in themselves are quite inadequate to convey his +peculiar state of mind and body. It was something more than lassitude, +yet it was not quite fatigue. It was rather as if some integral part of +his brain had been removed. + +It is impossible to say just how long he remained on the bank of the +creek. At last his hunger became so acute that he determined to go off +foraging. He had his revolver with him; he was a fair enough shot, and +so it was not long before he tumbled a 'possum out of a tree. He made a +rough meal of it, and after that set off aimlessly into the bush. Had he +kept to his original intention he would have speedily wandered into the +Mallee, and would have run a good chance of dying of starvation in that +thinly-populated district. But his mind was still in a whirl, and +instinct alone guided his footsteps to the east. He was many miles north +of the valley and during his travels he moved further north, so that he +did not come across it during his journey back. + +His subsequent adventures are not very clear. Early in his travels the +piece of wood began to trouble him, and he decided that the sooner he +got rid of it the better. It is more than likely that he connected it in +some way with that blank feeling of inexplicable tragedy which seemed to +overshadow him. His instinct, however, led him to hide rather than +destroy it. He read the wording very carefully, but it failed to awaken +any responsive chords in his memory. As an after-thought, just as he was +about to slide the wood into the hole he had scraped out, he took his +knife and cut his name below the screed. Then he thrust it into the hole +and stamped the earth in on top of it. In this relation it is +interesting to notice the connection between the hiding of the money and +the burying of the wood that held the key to the position of the former. +It seems as if the sub-conscious memory of the one act had its influence +on the man in his performance of the other. + +Thereafter Mr. Cumshaw simply disappeared off the face of the earth. His +son's story is that he went to New South Wales, married there and raised +a family, and in the light of subsequent events that seems to be what +most likely occurred. It is known, however, that the Cumshaws were in +Victoria again somewhere about nineteen hundred and two or three, Albert +being at that time seven years old. + +With the lapse of years Abel had gradually recovered his memory, and bit +by bit most of the incidents of the robbery had stolen out of the +shrouded darkness of the past. He appears to have been perfectly +contented with his family, and for one reason and another the gold +remained undisturbed through the long years. The time was coming when +the old play would be staged again and new actors would arise to carry +it through. + +The tale of the gold robbery and the shooting of Mr. Jack Bradby, as the +reader will readily understand, passed into the police records and thus +became matters of history. Though no definite statement has been left +us, Mr. Bryce must have first come across the story during his +researches into Victorian history. He had friends in the Department, and +it is quite feasible that he had ready access to many official documents +that are usually beyond the reach of the ordinary public. He was not the +only one in this enviable position. There were other students of the +past who were moving along the same lines, and as he pieced together the +puzzle of the robbery he was followed by a pair of agile, unscrupulous +brains every whit as clever as he. The police records told Mr. Bryce +just this much:--On the first day of December, 1881, there had been a +gold robbery, and the robbers had got completely away. They had been +followed, and subsequently a man had been killed in the Grampians who +had been identified as John Bradby, a noted sheep and cattle-duffer. +When dying he refused to tell who his pals were, and had in the same +breath stated that the police would never find the gold. That in itself +was conclusive, yet the additional fact remained that the whereabouts of +the gold was still as big a mystery as ever it had been. The opinion of +the police was that the other members of the gang--they seemed to think +that it was a fairly large one--had returned when the hue and cry had +died away and recovered the plunder. Bryce, reading between the lines of +the dry official record, rather thought that they hadn't. At any rate +the element of mystery was sufficiently strong to induce him to +investigate the matter further. That was really the beginning of the +trouble. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE HEGIRA OF MR. ABEL CUMSHAW. + + +Early in January, 1919, Mr. Bryce had advanced so far in his +investigations that he resolved on taking a trip to the country around +the Grampians. He had nothing very definite to go on beyond the facts +that the robbery had been committed at one spot and Mr. Bradby had been +killed at another, and logically the gold must have been hidden +somewhere in between. He had hopes that he might stumble on something +that in his capable hands would prove to be a clue to the long-lost +hiding-place of the gold. Before he made any preparations he inserted an +advertisement in several of the leading dailies. It ran somehow like +this:--"Wanted--A capable and intelligent assistant to take part in +dangerous expedition to Grampians. Apply," and then followed his name +and address. He was convinced in his own mind that someone amongst those +who read this notice would have some inkling at least of the events of +1st December, 1881, and he rather fancied that he or they would be on +the alert. In that case it was just possible that the persons concerned +would either approach him with a guarded offer or would dog his +footsteps. In either case there was a chance of Mr. Bryce picking up +information that might be to his immediate advantage. He convinced +himself that there were still people living who had played an intimate +part in the affairs of that memorable night. + +The advertisement, however, had two results that were unforeseen by Mr. +Bryce. The third day after the insertion of the notice he was informed +that a gentleman wanted to see him. He requested that the man be shown +into his study. In due course the visitor arrived. He was a man +somewhere in the neighbourhood of sixty, but, save for a slight greying +of the hair about his temples, he showed little outward signs of his +age. His eyes, which were of a deep, unfathomable black, were very alert +and followed Mr. Bryce's every movement with a glittering serenity, if +one can use the expression, that was very disturbing. + +"Sit down," said Mr. Bryce, and he waved his visitor to a chair. + +The man sat down in the chair indicated, looked Mr. Bryce up and down, +without, however, the least sign of offensiveness in his gaze, and said +without any further preliminary, "I've come to see you about that +advertisement." + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce non-committally. "Yes, that ad. What about it?" + +"I think," said the other with his eyes fixed intently on Mr. Bryce, "I +think I am the best man for the job." + +"I haven't told you yet what the job is," Mr. Bryce objected. + +"That's so," the other admitted. "Beyond saying that it was dangerous, +you did not attempt to describe it. It doesn't matter what you want in +the Grampians. I'm the man to take. I know the place well." + +"It's changed vastly in thirty years," Bryce said suddenly. + +The other must have been expecting something like this, for he never +turned a hair. As far as he was concerned Mr. Bryce's observation might +have been the most casual remark in the world. He ignored it. Perhaps it +would have been better had he commented on it and asked what association +to-day's expedition had with what had happened during thirty odd years. +He passed the matter over in silence, and in that instant Bryce guessed +that the man knew as much, if not more, than he did. + +"Do you know why I advertised that expedition as dangerous?" Bryce +asked, seeing that the other made no attempt to reply. + +The man shook his head. "No, I don't," he said distinctly. + +"I'll tell you," said Bryce, and he leaned forward in simulated +confidence. "I'm fat and I wheeze. My bellows are all to blazes and the +doctors won't give a rap for my heart. I might go out any minute, more +especially if there's any extra exertion. Now I want a man who won't ask +questions, who will do the exertions for two, and take what's coming +with a grin." + +"That sounds simple enough," the man remarked. "May I ask what we are +after?" + +"I'm searching for gold," said Bryce with a startling clearness. + +The other shifted in his seat, looked at Bryce as if to measure the +possibilities of his next remark, and then said, "There's no gold +there." + +"You mean," said Bryce, "that none's ever been discovered there; quite a +different thing. I hope to discover some before I'm done." + +"It's too far west for mines," the other asserted. + +Mr. Bryce passed over the man's statement in a way that showed that as +far as he was concerned that aspect of the matter was over and done +with. The obvious answer for him to make would have been, "Gold comes in +other ways than out of mines," but he was cautious enough not to air all +his knowledge at once. + +"What's your name?" he demanded. + +"Abel Cumshaw," the other answered, and saw by the way Bryce screwed up +his brows that it conveyed nothing to him. + +"Well, Mr. Cumshaw, would you care to take this job on?" + +"How long would we be away?" + +"Six weeks or two months. I'm not certain of that." + +"When do we start?" + +"This is Monday. Be here Friday and we'll get right away. Friday +morning, mind, at ten-thirty sharp. That's all, I think. Good-day." + +After Mr. Cumshaw had gone Bryce slipped back in his chair and laughed +till his whole face creased up in rolls of quivering fat. "That's a good +one on him," he murmured. "He didn't ask what screw he was to get, and I +didn't tell him because I wanted to see if he'd ask. But he didn't, so +he must have been thinking of something else. He's anxious to get to the +Grampians, darned anxious. From the way he went on he seems to know a +bit about the place too. I wonder has he any suspicion?... Good Lord! +wouldn't it be a streak of luck if he knew! Yes, I did the right thing +in sending in that ad. One man's bitten at any rate." + +He went about the house all day chuckling away to himself. + + * * * * * + +The second incident which occurred that same day was of even a more +disturbing nature. Late that afternoon the telephone bell rang, and when +Bryce answered it a voice asked if he was the Mr. Bryce who had +advertised for an assistant in an expedition to the Grampians. + +"That's me," said Bryce. "But I'm sorry to say that the position's +filled." + +"Why are you sorry?" the voice asked disconcertingly. + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce. "Aren't you after it?" + +"No chance," said the voice. "As a matter of fact, I was on the point of +writing out a similar one myself, when I saw yours and guessed I'd let +you do the work." + +"Who are you?" Bryce demanded with a trace of sharpness in his voice. + +The man at the other end of the wire laughed cheerfully. "Never you +mind," he said. "You'll know soon enough, as soon as you've landed Jack +Bradby's plunder. Now, I want to put up a sporting proposition to you. +We'll retire gracefully, if you'll split fifty-fifty." + +"We!" Bryce repeated. "So there's more than one of you?" + +"There's lots of us, and we've got the whip hand of you because, you +see, you don't know who we are. We know you; we've been following a +couple of jumps behind you right through all the records, and we guess +it's high time we cashed in." + +"I'll see you in Hell first!" said Bryce angrily. + +"Probably you will," said the voice with a chuckle. "If you won't treat +with us, we'll get what we want in other ways." + +"No, by thunder, you won't!" said Bryce shortly. "I'll warn you that +I'll shoot on sight." + +"So do we," the other laughed. "I hope, for your sake, you recognise us +first, though I don't think it likely." + +"If I catch you monkeying around I'll fill you so full of holes that +your own mother won't know you from a colander," Bryce threatened; but +the voice laughed irritatingly, and when Bryce tried to get a reply he +found that the other had rung off. + +He flickered the hook with his finger. "Exchange," he said, giving his +number, "can you tell me who was speaking just now?" + +"Box three, G. P. O. public 'phones," said the girl wearily. + +"Oh, hell!" said Bryce in disgust, and hung up the receiver. + + * * * * * + +The rest of the week passed without incident of any sort, and, despite +the warning he had received. Bryce went on calmly with his preparations. +For all the fat flabbiness of him he was grit through and through, and +it took more than a warning over the telephone to turn him aside once he +had made up his mind to take a certain course. He went on quietly and +silently; his only sign of perturbation was that first thing on Tuesday +he slipped down town and bought a big calibre revolver. + +Friday morning came, and at ten-thirty exactly, not a minute before or +after, Mr. Abel Cumshaw knocked at the front door and was admitted. He +was shown at once into Mr. Bryce's study, where that gentleman awaited +him, watch in hand. + +"On time to the tick," he said affably as Cumshaw entered the room. +"Everything's ready for an immediate start. I suppose you've got all you +want." + +"I'm always ready at a moment's notice," Cumshaw said. "I travel light. +I'm an old campaigner." + +"That's the way I like to hear a man talk," Bryce said breezily. "We'll +be going in my car as far as we can. After that we'll have to walk, and +I'm not a very good hand at that. There's some rough spots up there, +they tell me," he said off-handedly. For all his seeming nonchalance he +was watching Cumshaw intently, and he saw him give an almost +imperceptible start. It flashed across Bryce's mind that perhaps Cumshaw +was in the pay of the people who had gone to such pains to 'phone him. A +second look at the man convinced him that such was not the case. +Cumshaw's eyes were frank and clear, and met his unswervingly. They were +not the eyes of a man who was playing a double game. + +There was something in them that Bryce did not quite understand. It was +the animation of newly-resurrected hope, such a light as might have +shone in the eyes of the men who rode to find the Holy Grail. Bryce knew +nothing of him or his history, and his only thought was that in some +queer way the man had a vital interest in the Grampians. It must be +remembered that, as far as known facts were concerned, Bryce knew +nothing more than the police records had told him. True, his reasoning +faculties, which were none of the densest, carried him a little further, +but he would have been the very first to admit his fallibility. Nothing +had occurred as yet to connect Cumshaw with Mr. Jack Bradby. He +recognised that the man had a definite object in view in going to the +Grampians--that was plain enough--but it might after all be merely +coincidence. Such things have happened. Mr. Cumshaw, on the other hand, +was alert and suspicious. He suspected everybody and everything, and he +had answered the advertisement solely because he believed, or affected +to believe, that an expedition to the hill country could have no other +object that the recovery of the gold. Doubtless it will appear strange +that Mr. Cumshaw had allowed so many years to elapse without attempting +to secure it for himself, but, as he told Bryce later on, there were +reasons even for that. + + * * * * * + +They stopped at Ballarat for lunch; Bryce refilled the petrol tank, and +then they set out on the long stretch to Ararat. Though no definite +statement exists, they passed the night at the latter town, for Cumshaw +afterwards told his son that they reached Landsborough about 10.30 the +following morning. Beyond Landsborough the track became very trying for +the car, and somewhere towards the evening of the second day the machine +was hidden away securely in one of the many gullies that abounded in the +neighbourhood. Then the hardest part of the journey began. Child's play +though it might have been to Cumshaw, who, for all his years, had a +constitution such as it is given to a few men to possess, it certainly +must have been a matter of infinite torture to Bryce, handicapped as he +was with his weak-heart and his wheezy lungs. + +They spent the next few days in working across to the spot where Bradby +had been killed thirty odd years before. As they drew near to the place +Cumshaw became more self-contained and uncommunicative than ever. The +sight of the old scene seemed to have depressed him marvellously. Bryce +watched him with increasing attentiveness; he noticed that he picked out +the road as if he had been used to it from childhood. There were times +when Bryce turned suddenly on him and caught a glimpse of a hard-set jaw +and a mouth about which strong lines of determination had woven +themselves. Yet, as soon as Cumshaw fancied he was observed, the mask of +his face melted into a smile, and the sombre eyes sparkled with a humor +that somehow seemed too real to be assumed. + +"You seem very familiar with the place, Cumshaw," Bryce remarked one +morning. + +"I told you I was," Cumshaw answered, his unfathomable eyes searching +his employer's face. + +"How long is it since you were here last?" Bryce asked. + +At the question all expression vanished from the other's face, leaving +it as immobile as a carven image of stone. "I have been here many +times," he said evasively. + +"Um!" said Bryce in that peculiar way of his, and he looked the other up +and down contemplatively. "I didn't think anyone had been here since +Bradby was shot." + +Bryce made the remark in the most casual and innocent way; he hadn't the +faintest notion in the world that what he had said was like a bombshell +bursting beneath the structure of Mr. Cumshaw's composure. He was +intelligent enough to realise that it was more than probable that +Cumshaw possessed knowledge of that almost forgotten episode which was +not shared with anyone else, but he had not the least suspicion that his +casual utterance would hit home so shrewdly as it did. + +Mr. Cumshaw stared at him as if he could not believe his ears. For once +he made no attempt to disguise his emotions beneath the mask of +stoicism. He saw laughter in the other's eyes, the jovial laughter of a +man who has always known the sweets of victory, and he jumped to the +natural though erroneous conclusion that Bryce had fathomed his +connection with the late Mr. Bradby. For all that he did not abandon his +defences without some show of resistance. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded in the belligerent attitude of a man who +is fighting a desperate though losing fight. + +"Just what I said, Mr. Cumshaw," Bryce smiled. "What else did you think +I meant?" + +The quiet question was put in such an unexpectedly mild tone that +Cumshaw was left wordless for the nonce, though his face showed in all +their fulness the emotions that were stirring within him. Doubt, +indecision, fear of a kind. + +"I thought----," he said and then stopped short. + +"You thought," Bryce repeated with a gentle persuasiveness in his voice. +"What was it you thought, Cumshaw?" + +They were both fencing, in sporting parlance "sparring for wind," each +of them with the Big Idea almost within reach, and each not daring yet +to put it into words. For the space of a heart-beat they stared into +each other's eyes, seeking to read the other's thoughts. In the end it +was Cumshaw who gave in first. He tore his eyes away from that fixed yet +kindly gaze that seemed to search and read his very soul. + +"I see," said Bryce, with a sudden intake of breath that lent a sibilant +quality to his speech, "I see that we are on the same track. Mr. +Cumshaw, place your cards on the table. You are after the gold that +Bradby hid; so am I. Our aims are the same. Let us be partners, instead +of employer and assistant. What do you know that I do not? What do I +know that you do not?" + +Like most fat and comfortable people Bryce was the soul of generosity, +and his offer was dictated not so much by expediency as by a sense of +the pity that he felt for this man, who seemed to have aged years in the +last few minutes. He, too, in his time had known what it meant to have +the prize within a hand's touch and then at the last moment lose it +after all. + +"You know nothing about me," Cumshaw said impulsively. "You don't know +who I am or what I've been. You haven't an idea...." + +Bryce cut him short with a sweeping gesture of his chubby hands. "My +dear man," he said, "what you've been doesn't matter a tinker's curse to +me. It's what you are that counts." + +"You don't even know that," the other answered, his lips curling in a +wry smile. + +"I'll know as soon as you tell me," Bryce hinted. + +It is a difficult matter for a man, who all his life has held a close +secret, to divulge it at a moment's notice, in a sudden fit of warm +friendliness, to a comparative stranger, and so Abel Cumshaw found it. +It is even harder to surrender one's hopes and ambitions in favor of a +potential rival, honest and all as that rival may appear to be. For one +brief moment Cumshaw paused on the brink of revelation, the while he +weighed the matter in his mind. In some strange way Bryce had guessed +that he was after the gold, but did he know why and how? Cumshaw rather +fancied he didn't. He was so sure of it that he decided that he would +gain nothing by divulging the connection between himself and the late +Mr. Bradby. So the mouth which was opening to speak shut up again like a +steel trap, and the dark eyes turned bleak and cold. He looked Bryce +steadily and calmly in the face. + +"There is nothing to tell," he said, and turned on his heel. + + * * * * * + +Black night had descended on the forest many hours before, so many in +fact that the camp fire had sunk to a feeble red glow, and the dying +embers were already circled by a ring of dead white ash. The breeze was +crooning softly through the branches of the trees, singing weird +chanties to itself. In between the murmurs of the wind there came +another sound, the indistinct sound of a sleepy man mumbling to himself. +Bryce half-raised himself on one elbow and listened. Half a dozen feet +away from him Cumshaw lay tightly rolled in his blankets. He tossed +restlessly and once all but sat up. Bryce dropped quickly but +soundlessly back into a prone position. But the alarm had been a false +one, and presently he quietly raised himself again. The indistinct +mumbling went on as before, and he strained his ears to catch some +intelligible word. + +"Kill me, would you?" he heard the other say. + +His voice sank again, and for a time he mumbled and mouthed his words so +that Bryce missed most of what he said. He was just on the point of +settling down again when Cumshaw suddenly sat up. + +"I'll beat you yet, Bradby!" he cried with startling distinctness. +"You're dead now and the gold's mine." + +His eyes opened and he stared dazedly around him. Bryce was lying prone +and snoring away hoggishly. He was fast asleep; there was not the +slightest doubt in the mind of the man who watched him so closely. + +"I must have dreamt I said it," Cumshaw murmured to himself. "If I'd +spoken the way I thought I had he'd have been wide-awake." And then he +in his turn composed himself to slumber. + + * * * * * + +They were very quiet at breakfast. Bryce was turning the situation over +in his mind, viewing it from all possible angles and seeking some method +of getting Cumshaw to speak without in any way antagonising him. Cumshaw +himself was troubled by lingering doubts. It was quite possible after +all that Bryce had heard him, supposing he had spoken aloud, and was +quietly dissembling for some purpose of his own. His very thoughtfulness +seemed to lend color to that idea. He looked at Bryce across the carpet +of grass and at the same instant Bryce raised his eyes. They stared at +each other with the breathless intensity of two men who know that in all +things they are evenly matched. Each was striving to the last atom of +his will-power to break down the resistance of the other and force him +in some way to take the initiative. At last it was Bryce who dropped his +eyes a fraction and Cumshaw who breathed a sigh of relief. But his +relief was short-lived, for in the last half-second his guard had +relaxed. Bryce said: + +"Why did Bradby want to kill you, Mr. Cumshaw?" + +The quick yet calm question, covering as it did the one episode of which +nobody but the two participants could possibly have any knowledge, +startled Cumshaw. For once his impassive face showed signs of fear, and +his eyes became those of a hunted man. He half-rose to his feet and then +dropped back again, as if aware of the uselessness of flight. He tried +to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. In one short sentence Bryce +had shattered all his hopes and pulled his airy castles to the ground. +Did this man but like to speak he would be once again Cumshaw the +bushranger, the man who had been hand in glove with Bradby, and who, +through some miracle of mischance, had not been bracketed with his dead +colleague. Bryce knew all apparently, and a word from him----. Cumshaw +shivered. + +"You can trust me," Bryce said softly. "I guess I know your secret now. +You and Bradby carried out that robbery between you. You hid the gold, +and for one reason and another you've never retrieved it. Isn't that +it?" + +Cumshaw nodded. It was too late now to deny anything, even if he had so +felt inclined. Nemesis in the shape of this laughing-eyed, gross-bodied +man, had come upon him in his old age, and there was nothing for it but +to take what was coming with as good a grace as he could muster. + +"What happened thirty years or more ago is over and done with," Bryce +ran on, "and I'm not the sort to bring it into the light of day again. +I'm after that gold, and, in order to get it, I'm quite ready to repeat +my previous offer. We each seem to have something that the other lacks. +You can tell me many things I don't know. Of that I'm sure." + +"There's a lot of things you seem sure of," Cumshaw said with a +half-defiant air. + +"I'm as sure that you're the man who was with Bradby as if I'd seen it +all myself," Bryce stated. "Remember, before you refuse, that it's +always better to compromise than fight. Furthermore, if you have to +fight, it's much better to have an ally you can rely on." + +"What's that?" Cumshaw demanded with a show of interest. "What do you +mean?" + +"Only this," Bryce said slowly. "There's another crowd on the track, and +they've already warned me that they'll make the going heavy. If you've +got to be up against them, why not throw in your lot with me? It's +fifty-fifty with us; if you stand out on your own, you'll probably lose +it all." + +"I think you've got me in a cleft stick," Cumshaw said a trifle +ruefully. "I can't see that I can refuse. Now how much do you know?" + +Said Mr. Bryce untruthfully, "I know everything except where you've +hidden the gold." + +"And even I couldn't swear to that," Cumshaw said. + +"It seems to me," said Bryce dryly, "that the best thing you can do is +to tell me the whole story." + +He listened eagerly to the tale, occasionally stopping the other to +question him on some obscure point, sometimes helping him along with a +comment that threw unexpected light in the dark corners of the story. + +"It amounts to this," he said when Cumshaw had finished. "Bradby buried +the gold in this hidden valley of yours. It's so hidden--the valley, I +mean--that you only came on it by accident, and you have no definite +idea as to its whereabouts. It's three or four days' journey into the +mountains, that's all you can say. There's no way of recognising it from +the outside that you know of. Well, I'll tell you this, Mr. Cumshaw. +It's my frank opinion that your clever murderous friend had some way of +finding it again, or he wouldn't have been in such haste to make away +with you. He knew what he was doing, you can depend on it. Now I wonder +if he left any clue?" + +"I've got a hazy memory that he left directions somewhere and that I had +them," Cumshaw said despondently, "but I can't say what happened to +them. You must remember that I was wandering about half-delirious for a +long while after I got knocked, and it was years before I got really +right again. I might have lost any note he made; I might have done +anything with it." + +"You might have and that's a fact," Mr. Bryce agreed. "Now you say +you've hunted for this valley many times during the last ten years or +so." + +Cumshaw nodded. "It seems funny," he said, "but I've never been able to +find it." + +"There's nothing funny about it," Bryce told him. "History and fiction +abound with instances of similar miscalculations. I'll guarantee that +there are scores of such places in every continent in the world. +Australia's got just as many as any other place. What made you want to +hunt it up again after all those years?" + +"Old associations, I suppose," Cumshaw said half-ashamedly. "While I was +in New South Wales--I went there, you understand, until things blew over +a bit--and my wife was alive, I didn't want anything else but to be near +her. When she died and things began to go wrong with me, I drifted back +here. Money was short. I was living as best I could, and there were the +children to look after, and the sight of the old places brought things +back to my mind. I was beginning to dig bits up from the memory of the +past--the doctors have some fancy name for lapses like mine, though I +could never remember what it was--and then one day I asked myself why +shouldn't I go after the gold? It was as much mine as anyone else's, now +that Bradby was dead, and the Bank that originally owned it had gone +smash about the Land Boom time from what I could gather. I went, but I +missed the place somehow. I went time and again, but it was always like +that 'Lost Mountain' story of Mayne Reid's, though a valley's harder to +find than a mountain you'd think. I couldn't find it anyhow, and that's +about all there is to it." + +"Um!" said Mr. Bryce, and he ran his hand softly across his chin. "We +are up against a bigger thing than I thought. I'm hanged if I can see a +glimmer of light anywhere. Is there anything you can suggest?" + +Cumshaw did not reply. He was staring straight ahead of him, staring +intently, and little furrows of anxiety marred the serenity of his +forehead. He was peering into the shadows of the trees as if his eyes +were twin searchlights that could cut substance from the gloom. He was +staring so intently that Bryce whirled round, fully convinced that his +friends of the telephone were upon them. + +"What's wrong?" he queried in a hoarse whisper. "What are you looking +at?" + +"Nothing," said Cumshaw. "I thought I heard something moving, that's +all." + +Bryce in his turn peered intently in between the tree-boles, but the +shadows lay thick upon the grass between, and it was difficult to define +even the shapes of the more distant timber. The place was still and +gloomy, full of grim forebodings, like a summer sky in which a storm is +gathering. + +"We must have been mistaken," Bryce remarked in his embracing way. +"There doesn't seem to be anyone about." + +"Hands up!" snapped a crisp voice, and in the surprise of the moment +Bryce obeyed. Cumshaw had no such intention. He dropped suddenly on to +the ground even as a shot rang out, and a bullet whistled close above +his head. The next instant he was crashing swiftly through the bushes, +spinning down into the gully like a human projectile. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE GATHERING OF THE EAGLES. + + +At first Bryce could see nothing but the dull gleam of unpolished metal +from the barrel of a revolver which protruded from behind a tree, but a +further scrutiny showed him the dim outlines of a man's figure standing +in that place of gloom and ghosts. The man stepped out from his +hiding-place, even as Bryce watched him, and was followed almost +instantly by another man. They were both somewhere about the same +height, in the neighbourhood of five feet ten. Their features were not +visible, for each of them wore a handkerchief about his face in the +time-honored fashion of the men of the road, and a hat pulled well down +over the eyes completed the disguise. + +"Well, Mr. Bryce," said the man in front, "what have you got to say for +yourself?" + +"It's a funny thing," remarked Bryce, with the adventures of Mr. Cumshaw +and the late Mr. Bradby in his mind, "it's funny how history repeats +itself." + +The leader made a step forward and stared intently at Bryce. "You're the +man right enough," he said. "Where's your pal?" + +"Ask me something easy," sneered Bryce, "and I'd be obliged if you'd let +me drop my hands awhile. This is getting fairly tiresome." + +"You should have thought of that before you started that business," the +other one reminded him. "It's rather late now to be finding out the +flaws in your plans." + +The sneering smile on Mr. Bryce's face broadened into a grin of triumph. +"Didn't you ever hear the proverb about glass-houses and the people who +live in them?" he enquired blandly. + +The first speaker stared at him, but the other one said impatiently, +"Finish him off, Alick, and let's get it over." + +The man called Alick answered in a subdued voice. Bryce did not catch +what he said, but supposed it to be a counsel of caution. His smile grew +in intensity, so much so that Alick snapped at him. "What the deuce are +you grinning at, you fat fool?" he demanded. + +"You'll know soon enough," Bryce said with a chuckle. He looked right +past them into the shadows of the trees, on his face the joyful +expression of a man who sees the long-locked gates of his prison swing +open before him. Both men whirled round with a chorus of oaths. They +were quite positive that Bryce's mate had stolen a march on them and +crept up behind their backs. They had their heads turned away but for +the fraction of a second, but the time, short though it was, was plenty +long enough for Mr. Bryce. With an agility, remarkable in a man of his +weight and state of health, he faded into the landscape like some fat +fairy. + +"Fooled!" said Alick's companion, and he whipped round to face his +prisoner, only to find that the keen-brained Mr. Bryce had vanished as +completely as if he had been blown off the face of the earth. + +"Nice pair of goats we are," remarked Alick disgustedly. + +The other said nothing, but stood for a moment in a state of indecision. +At that precise instant a pencil of flame shot out from one of the trees +immediately in front of them, and Alick dropped his revolver with a howl +of pain. + +"He's winged me," he said, and applied to Mr. Bryce an epithet not +usually heard in polite society. + +His mate fired at the tree from which the shot had evidently come, but +the bullet did nothing more than flatten itself against the trunk in a +shower of dust and dry bark. Mr. Bryce's revolver spoke once again. This +time he failed to register. + +"The sooner we get out of this the better," said Alick, with one hand +clasped to his injured shoulder. "The beggar'll riddle us both if we +stop here." + +The other man grunted his approval of the suggestion and proceeded to +carry it into effect at once. + +"Better look where you are going," Alick advised. "That other chap's +about somewhere, perhaps waiting for us." + +The other consigned both Bryce and his assistant to a place more noted +for its warmth than its comfort. Despite their forebodings Mr. Cumshaw +did not put in an appearance, and they gained the shelter of the thick +timber in safety. + +Once he was sure that they had really departed Mr. Bryce stepped out +from behind his tree, first, however, with commendable caution reloading +the heavy revolver he carried. The smile was still flickering about the +corners of his mouth, but there was a little wrinkle of anxiety across +his forehead. + +"I wonder where the devil Cumshaw's gone?" he remarked to the +unresponsive trees. "He went off like a scared rabbit. I'd better hunt +for him. I can't get on without him now." + +With the laudable intention of finding Mr. Cumshaw as soon as possible +he began to scour the neighbourhood. + +When Mr. Cumshaw disappeared so precipitately it was with the idea that +he must maintain his freedom at any cost. True, Bryce might be captured, +but by the same token he could be rescued just as easily. Though his +intentions were right enough he was prevented in the simplest manner +possible from carrying them into effect. He went crashing through the +bushes as has already been related, and found himself on the edge of +what was nothing more or less than a blind creek. The sides were covered +with matted brushwood and were as slippery as glass. His momentum was +such that he could not stop himself in time, and he went head over heels +down the side of the gully, and spun on to the boulder-covered bottom +like some new and monstrous kind of Catherine wheel. He collided with +the rounded surface of one of the big weather-worn rocks which lay +strewn about the gully floor like the tremendous marbles of a giant. + +The world spun round him in a blaze of colored lights, and his head felt +as if it were filled with fireworks. Then in an instant all sensation +ceased as though cut off with the clean sweep of a naked sword. Mr. +Cumshaw lay still and lifeless under the shadow of the brushwood-covered +gully. + +Some half an hour later, when Bryce happened on this very spot, he +pulled the bushes aside cautiously and peered down almost between his +toes; but the shadows lay thick beneath him, and the edge of the gully +so projected that he could not see the body of the man for whom he was +searching. Slowly he retraced his steps. He was deeply puzzled by this +new aspect of the affair. It seemed impossible that Cumshaw could have +completely disappeared in so short a space of time, yet the fact that he +could not be found was in itself proof conclusive. Had Bryce lingered a +couple of seconds longer he would have seen the rapidly-recovering +Cumshaw turn over on his side, raise one hand to his head, and present a +startled face to the scanty rays of light that filtered down to him. In +a sense his revival was something more than a recovery; it was a +resurrection. The years rolled away in an instant, and he ceased to be +the Abel Cumshaw who had fallen down the side of the gully and cracked +his head against an extra-large sized boulder; he became the Abel +Cumshaw who had just been knocked into unconsciousness by the butt of +Mr. Bradby's revolver, and whose head still throbbed with the force of +the blow. + +He stared uncomprehendingly at the steep sides of the gully; they had no +place in his gallery of mental pictures. He had a vague idea that there +should be a creek somewhere close at hand. His head was throbbing, +pulsing as if some mighty engine were working inside it. He rose +unsteadily to his feet and regarded the steep declivities which formed +the sides of the gully with a contemplative eye. He decided that they +were climbable, but that he must wait awhile before he made the attempt. +He was weak yet; one does not recover instantaneously from a crack on +the head. He moved very carefully when he moved at all, and he kept well +within the shadows of the overhanging banks. Mr. Bradby was somewhere +handy, he argued, extremely ready and willing to finish him off, and it +would never do to give him another chance. He had no idea that Mr. +Bradby had died long years ago. Time had telescoped and he was back +again in the early eighties. With the addled craftiness of a half-witted +creature he set about escaping from the imprisoning walls of the +gully-dungeon. Had it been anything else than a blind creek he would +have found an exit by following the dry bed, and thus have disappeared +entirely from this story. But it was fated otherwise. The one idea that +gained any sort of prominence in his mind was that he must climb the +side of the gully. + +He found a pool of clear rainwater in a little cavity in the dry bed of +the creek, and bathed his head in it and drank a little. Its refreshing +coolness acted on his jaded body like the sting of a spur on the flank +of a lazy horse. He crept cautiously in under the overhang of the bank +and searched about for a foothold. Such was not hard to find, and, in +less time than it takes to write of it, he was swinging up the side of +the bank, clinging to projecting ledges of rock with hands and feet that +seemed to possess all the prehensile quality of a monkey's. Once on the +top of the bank he burrowed into the mass of vegetation like some +primeval creature taking to earth, a pitiful caricature of the sane, +strong man he had been a few short hours before. Cautious and all as he +was, his flight was not absolutely noiseless, and so it came about that +presently Bryce heard him, and circled round the spot from which the +sound came like a wolf heading off a herd of deer. + +Cumshaw crashed through the bushes and emerged into the open a hundred +yards or so ahead of Bryce. The latter caught sight of him at the moment +of his emergence and called out to him to stop. + +"Cumshaw," he called. "Come here!" + +The other heard the call and caught his own name, but instead of +slackening he accelerated his pace. He did not look round; he was +convinced in his own warped mind that his pursuer was none other than +the late Mr. Bradby. Accordingly he swung along at such a rate that +Bryce soon dropped behind, breathless and dispirited. He sat down on a +convenient log and mopped his damp face with a large-sized handkerchief. +Presently his breathing became normal again, and his agitated heart +ceased fluttering like a caged bird. He fell to reviewing the position. +The more he thought of it, the less hopeless it appeared to be. His +unrecognisable and nameless antagonists had temporarily withdrawn from +the fight, whether to consolidate their forces and plan some new form of +attack, or because they had received a very salutary lesson, he could +not say. Also it did not worry him over much. His ideas were centred +mainly on Mr. Cumshaw. True, that gentleman had disappeared over the +horizon with every mark of unseemly haste, and already he must be well +advanced on whatever road he was taking. Not so very far away the car +awaited Bryce, and he was sure that, once he reached it, it would be +merely a matter of a day or so until he rediscovered Mr. Cumshaw. He +repeated the verb. "Re-discovered" struck a distinctive note. One could +not convey the same meaning with any form of the verb "to overtake;" Mr. +Cumshaw had disappeared, not simply gone on ahead. He chuckled softly at +his own quaint conceit, and at that his spirits began to rise again. + +Feeling now fully rested, he rose to his feet and swung out on the track +with that long slow stride which was all that remained of his athletic +form of the old New Guinea days. Of late years he had walked, when he +had walked at all, with the quick nervous step of the city-bred man, and +it heartened him immensely to know that he was recovering without any +effort of his volition the old easy pioneer stride. + +It is not within the scope of this tale to relate how Mr. Bryce at +length reached his car and set out on what he believed to be Abel +Cumshaw's trail. Suffice it to state that he reached his machine without +any untoward incident, the two gentlemen who had so rudely disturbed the +serenity of his nature having seemingly disappeared from the face of the +earth. Once he passed a drover and elicited from him that a man +answering Cumshaw's description had passed him on the road the previous +morning. Evidently then the missing man was keeping away from the towns, +taking instead a trail that would inevitably lead him further into the +bush. He was rather pleased at this. Abel Cumshaw in the city would be +as hard to find as the proverbial needle in a bundle of hay, but in the +bush it would be much easier to locate him, Bryce considered. So he +drove the car along at a low speed, keeping all the time a watchful eye +out for any signs of the truant. As he progressed he was surprised and +not a little pleased to find that his New Guinea woodcraft was coming +back to him by degrees. The joy of the chase was his, and he experienced +again the same keen and primitive emotions that had thrilled him in the +days when the elder Carstairs and he had trodden the unexplored wilds of +Papua. + + * * * * * + +He came upon Cumshaw very suddenly. The car was creeping through the +trees at a snail's pace--there was no clearly defined track in that part +of the bush, and Bryce was taking no unnecessary risks--when he caught +sight of a figure that might or might not be the missing Mr. Cumshaw. He +stopped the car at once and descended to the ground. As has already been +noted earlier in these memoirs, Mr. Bryce, when occasion required it, +for all his huge bulk, could move as agilely and noiselessly as that +pre-eminently silent animal, the domestic cat. He had been so keyed up +by the emotional stresses of the last few days that he threw himself +into the adventure with all the zest of a schoolboy just being +introduced into romance. The man was dodging through the trees a hundred +yards or so ahead, and there was something so furtive about his +movements that Bryce approached with more than his usual caution. + +The man halted and glanced swiftly around. Bryce flattened himself +against a handy tree, and fervently hoped that the shadow was thick +enough to conceal him. The other patently had no idea that he was being +followed, for, apparently quite satisfied with his hasty scrutiny, he +dropped on his knees and commenced scraping the earth away with the +point of a knife that had appeared in his hand with the magical +suddenness of a conjuring trick. As the man worked away Bryce peeped out +from his hiding-place and saw then that it was indeed Cumshaw. He +watched fascinated. His heart was thumping away like the piston of a +steam-engine, and some queer unnamed instinct told him that the chase +was drawing to a close. Cumshaw was digging up something of vital +importance; it might be the treasure itself or perhaps the key to it. +But why should Cumshaw have gone so stealthily to work unless--? "Unless +he is going to cut me out of it," said Bryce to himself. + +Abruptly the other straightened up and hugged something to his breast. +It was covered with black loam, and at the distance Bryce could not tell +what it was. He slipped stealthily from tree to tree until he had wormed +his noiseless way right up to Cumshaw. Then, seeing that he had his man +cut off should he attempt to escape, he stepped out into the open and +laid a kindly hand on the fugitive's shoulder. Cumshaw turned in a +flash, and, in the excitement of the moment, the earth-covered object +slipped out of his hands and fell on the grass at his feet. + +"Where have you been all this time?" Bryce asked jovially. + +Cumshaw stared at him in a puzzled way. His face at first had shown all +the symptoms of fear, but the moment Bryce spoke they faded out, to be +replaced by a very obvious air of relief. Yet there was nothing of +recognition in the man's eyes; they were full of a great blank wonder, +like the eyes of a child who takes its first look at the teeming life +beyond its doors. His forehead crinkled up as if he were trying to +recall something that had slipped his memory. + +"Who are you?" he said at length. "I ... I don't think I know you," and +he brushed his forehead with a weak, ineffective gesture of the hand. It +was then that Bryce noticed the matted, blood-stained condition of his +hair and the big purple bruise that disfigured his temple. His quick +mind guessed at what had happened, though, erroneously enough, he +concluded that Cumshaw had received the blows in an encounter with the +men who had been the original cause of the man's flight. + +"You'd better come with me, Cumshaw," he said in the same soothing tone +that he would have applied to a tired child. + +"I'm going home," said Cumshaw with weak stubbornness. "I don't want to +go with you." + +"I'll take you home," said Bryce. + +That he decided was the only thing he could do. Cumshaw was in no fit +state to continue the search for his lost valley, and Bryce realised +that it would not be safe to leave him uncared for. If he went home with +Cumshaw he would be throwing his pursuers off the track. That would help +him considerably. He had no fear that they would discover the valley +during his absence; their attack on him showed that they had come to the +end of their resources, and fancied that their only hope of touching any +of the spoils was by forcing the secret out of Bryce. Of course it was +quite on the cards that they would follow the car, but it was just as +likely that they would make no definite move until they had solved the +meaning of his change of plans. + +Cumshaw was still standing like a man in a dream. Bryce placed his hand +on the man's arm. + +"Come along with me," he said. "I'll see that you get safely home." + +He bent down quickly and picked up the loam-encrusted object that +Cumshaw had dropped in the first moment of the encounter, Cumshaw +followed his movements with troubled eyes, but did not interfere in any +way. Bryce could see that the thing was a bit of wood, and on one piece +of it, where the earth had been scraped off, there were letters +scratched. He thrust it into his pocket, meaning to examine it more +closely at his leisure. + +Cumshaw walked to the car with him. He yielded to the stronger will +without any show of resistance. All his own will-power seemed to have +departed, and he obeyed Bryce with a child-like faith. Once in the car +he slumped into the corner and closed his eyes. Bryce seized the +opportunity thus given him to steal another look at the wood he had +picked up. He scraped away what loam he could with his finger nail, and +soon was able to make out two complete words. + +"This'll have to wait," he said with a sigh, as he thrust it back into +his pocket. "This bit of wood's got your name on it, Mr. Abel Cumshaw, +and I'll bet all I ever owned that it's the key you've been hunting +for." + +He cranked up the car, and soon was speeding back to the high road. In +his corner Mr. Cumshaw slept. + +Ten minutes after they reached the main road another car swung out along +the Ararat road. There were three men in it, the chauffeur and two +passengers. One of the latter held his hand to a wounded shoulder, and +swore at the chauffeur every time the car jolted and sent a quiver of +pain through the wound. + +In course of time Bryce's car came to a little hamlet on the Geelong to +Colac road--a hamlet that must be nameless in this story. There he found +the Albert Cumshaw of this tale, delivered his father into his care and +told him all that had happened, suppressing only the episode of the +finding of the wood. He found Albert Cumshaw easier to deal with than he +had expected--as a matter of fact the younger man already knew much of +his father's story--and the result of the conversation was that the +search was held over, pending the elder Cumshaw's recovery. + +Bryce remained the night with the Cumshaws, saw that a doctor was +secured who would give skilled attention to the elder man, and then +early in the morning set out for home. The day was very warm, and the +cool breeze that presently sprang up from the ocean moved Bryce to motor +down to the coast. At the worst it was only a few miles out of his road. +At first he had no intention of making a stop at the heads, but the sea +as he came within sight of it looked so cool and inviting that he was +tempted to have a dip. He parked his car in the reserve, purchased a +bathing suit at the local store and ambled down to the beach. It was +only when he commenced to undress that he recollected that the wood was +still in his pocket, so with rare caution he thrust it under the sand, +quite satisfied that no one would dream of looking there. He had no idea +that his pursuers were so close behind him; he was merely taking +precautions against any casual tramp who might be tempted to run through +his pockets. + +Ten minutes later James Carstairs, explorer, gentleman and rolling +stone, limped into the picture, and the story of The Lost Valley entered +upon its penultimate phase. + + + + +PART III + +_THE FINDING OF THE LOST VALLEY._ + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE CYPHER. + + +"You may smoke if you like, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said graciously to our +visitor. + +I said nothing; instead I silently handed the man my cigar-case. He +selected a weed with a discriminating care that I felt cast an +unwarranted reflection on the quality of the cigars I smoked. I watched +him in silence while he cut off the end with a neat, precise stroke of +his penknife, lit the cigar and blew a cloud of blue smoke out of his +mouth. All the time I was staring at him I could feel Moira's eyes on +me, and I knew that she was wondering what made me so boorish and +morose. Or, perhaps, with a woman's keen instinct for ferreting out the +things she shouldn't know anything about, she guessed just what was the +matter. To tell the truth I was just beginning to feel a little jealous. +Frankly I considered that she was paying too much attention to Mr. +Albert Cumshaw, and I hadn't two sharp eyes without seeing that he +openly admired her. Of course I had turned down her overtures of +reconciliation, and I think I told her plainly enough that there was no +possibility of my falling in love with her again; but, if all that were +perfectly true, I shouldn't have been jealous because the two of them +took to making eyes at each other. The fact remained that I was a little +hurt by what I saw, and I had to recognise, even though I ran counter to +the promptings of my common-sense, that I wasn't as indifferent to her +as I would have myself believe. + +I brought myself back with a jerk to the matter in hand. + +"What do you propose doing about the matter?" I asked of Cumshaw. + +He did not reply immediately. His right little finger flipped the ash +from off the end of his cigar, and then the dark curly head lifted and +the glowing eyes looked straight into mine. + +"What do I propose doing!" he repeated. "Well, if it was left to me," he +said, after a contemplative pause, "I'd say the treasure's there, and +the sooner we go after it the better. We know already that there's other +people on the job--they killed Mr. Bryce and they made a mess of the +Dad--and it's all right thinking, as Mr. Bryce did, that they've come to +the end of their tether and are waiting for us to set the pace for them. +There's been so many miracles in this play already that it doesn't do to +risk the chance of any more. We've got no absolute guarantee that they +won't stumble on the key to everything while we're wasting time here. +You say you've got a cypher Mr. Bryce left you. Well, that cypher +contains the position of the treasure; there's no doubt about that in my +mind. Bradby carved it on the wood--neither he nor the Dad had any paper +with them at the time--and from what I've heard of the man I'm confident +that it's the kind of thing he would do. Then when Mr. Bryce got hold of +it he burnt the wood and threw what was on it into a sort of cryptogram. +One way and another he was pretty cautious when the fit took him, though +I must say that when it was a question of his own life he wasn't so +particular. It boils down to this. The Dad's out of the game for good +and we've got to use our own wits. Within limits we've got a fair idea +of the position of the valley, and, once we've solved the cypher, we'll +probably have something more definite to go on." + +"That," I remarked, "is supposing we do solve it. As far as I can see +it's too weird for anything." + +"Uncle," said Moira severely, "wouldn't have written it if he didn't +think you could solve it. That's why he made it easy." + +"If you think it's easy," I retorted, "take it yourself and see what you +can make of it." + +"That's a good idea," Cumshaw cut in, turning my own shaft against +myself. "Suppose we all have a shot at it and see what we can make of +it. We might get it all out and again we mightn't. When we get as far as +we can we'll all pool our efforts, and maybe we'll make something out of +it that way." + +"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira said, and darted a glance +of triumph at me. It said as plainly as so many words that here was a +champion for her, a man who would defend her against the whole world. Of +course I ignored it. What man would do anything else under the +circumstances? But there are some things, of which this was one, that +the more one ignores them the more insistent as to their presence do +they become. So, though I affected not to see Moira's little glance of +triumph, it photographed itself upon my mind's eye and completely +spoiled the evening for me. + +"We'll get Jim here to type out a copy for you before you go, Mr. +Cumshaw," she promised, "and you can see what you can make of it." + +"Thanks," said the young man briefly. I had expected him to make a +bigger mouthful of it than that, and I thought it odd that he did not. +It struck me too as queer that he did not ask for a look at the cypher; +an ordinary man would have known no peace until he had examined it in +all its baffling details. As I was to learn, Mr. Cumshaw was no ordinary +man, and, for a young chap of his age, had his emotions and inclinations +under rather remarkable control. + +I stood up. "If you want that cypher," I said, "I'll type it out now, +and you can study it on the way home if you wish." + +"It's very kind of you," Cumshaw murmured with a well-bred lack of +enthusiasm. + +"I think," said Moira, "that we'd all better adjourn to the study. I +don't like to think of anyone being in there alone, especially at night. +You see," she explained to Cumshaw, "the room hasn't been used since +Uncle's death. He was killed in that very room ... in front of my eyes." + +"I understand," said Cumshaw softly, and he rose to his feet and held +the door open for Moira to pass out. She led the way to the study and +unlocked the door. It had been a fad of hers ever since the tragedy to +keep the room sealed, and, as I saw no reason for gainsaying her, I had +never interfered. She switched on the light and we stood for a moment on +the threshold, dazzled by the unaccustomed radiance. Nothing in the +place had been touched--we had not disturbed anything during our search +for Bryce's papers--and, save for the absence of some of the actors in +the scene, it might have been the very night of the tragedy itself. + +I broke the spell by walking into the room and proceeding to take the +cover off the typewriter. The machine had not been used since its owner +had died. Despite the manner in which I had lied to Bryce, I knew a +thing or two about typewriters. As a matter of fact I transcribed the +greater part of my father's three volumes of Solomon Island Ethnology on +just such another machine. I sat down at the table and drew from my +pocket the letter and the cypher, both of which I had thrust out of +sight when Albert Cumshaw had been announced that afternoon. + +"There's the cypher," I said, and I spread the sheet out on the table. + +Cumshaw bent over it and read out aloud from beginning to end. + +"2@3; 5@3 &9; 3 5433-3/4 5@ 3 @75 L994 1/4;L 5@3 481/28;? 1/27; 1/443 8; & 8;3 +--31/41/2743 1/23:3; "335 31/41/25.5@3; "1/4/3 L843/5 ;945@3/4L41/42 1/4;95@34 &8;3 1/45 +48?@5 1/4;?&31/2 59 5@3 043:8971/2 9;33/43)53;L8;? " 94 523&:3 "335.L8? 5@3;," +he said, stumbling every now and then at the unfamiliar expressions. + +"What do you make of it?" I asked. + +He looked up at me with just the flicker of a smile about the corners of +his mouth. "I can't say just yet," he replied. "All these things take +time. You can't solve them in an instant." + +"I thought we might," I said, with just the least hint of offensiveness +in my tone. I don't know whether or not he noticed it, but if he did he +was gentleman enough to ignore it. + +"All right," I ran on, "I'll type this out if one of you'll read it to +me. Go slowly, as I don't want to have any mistakes. It's bad enough to +have to do it once without having to do it again." + +"I'll read it," Cumshaw volunteered. I nodded to show my agreement. I +then threaded the paper through and said, "I'm ready." + +He began to read it very slowly and carefully, and I typed away as he +spoke. I had just got the first four or five combinations down when +Moira interrupted me. + +"I knew you'd make a mess of it," she said coldly. "I told you so at the +beginning." As a matter of fact she had said no such thing, but I let it +pass. + +"What's wrong?" I queried, looking up at her. + +"I've been watching you," said she, "and you haven't depressed your +figure lever once. You must have it all wrong. It'll just be simple +letters instead of the signs." + +I had been typing all the time with my eyes on the keyboard, and I +hadn't once glanced at the finished work. Now I looked at it I saw that +she was right. I had been typing letters all along when I should have +been printing figures. And then something queer about the letters struck +me. My heart gave a jump. + +"Go on," I said huskily to Cumshaw. "Give me a few more." + +He read out two or three more combinations and then I leaned back in the +chair. "Look," I said triumphantly, "look what I've done!" + +Two heads bobbed down over my work, stared at it for a moment, and then +two pairs of eyes smiled at me. + +"You've solved it by accident," said Cumshaw. + +"I'm sorry for what I said," Moira said simply. + +"It's just the simplest cypher in existence," I said. "You've got a +keyboard with letters and figures on it. When you want letters you type +straight out, and when you want figures you just depress the lever. Now +look at this. That 5 is on the same key as T, @ is on H's key, 3 means +E, and so on. When Bryce worked it out he simply pressed down the figure +lever and left it down, and now to reverse the process all we've got to +do is to hit the keys these signs are on and leave the lever alone. +Simple, isn't it?" + +"Very," said Cumshaw. + +"Get it all out, Jim, quick!" said Moira with feminine impatience. + +I did. I pressed 2 and I got W, and so on all along the keyboard, and +when I had finished I pulled the sheet out and handed it to them. "Read +it out, Moira," I said. "It's your turn." + +"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'" + +"If it hadn't been for you," said Cumshaw, "we wouldn't have found it. I +congratulate you," and he held out his hand to me. + +"Rubbish!" I said. "It was all a lucky accident." But all the same I +took the proffered hand. + +"We can go right on with it now," Moira cried joyously. "There's nothing +to stop us." + +"Only that we've got to find the valley yet," said Cumshaw gloomily. "My +father made several attempts but couldn't locate it." + +"You've got to bear in mind," I told them, "that we've got some +information your father hadn't, strange though it seems." + +"And that?" Cumshaw queried quickly. + +"We're looking for a valley that's got a lone tree overlooking it. Your +father didn't seem to be aware of that." + +Cumshaw seized the paper and read it through quickly. "By the Lord +Harry, you're right, Carstairs! That's one piece of information he +didn't have. If he had known that when he went after the gold himself +he'd have got it." + +"Maybe he would," I said doubtfully. + +"You don't seem too sure of it, Carstairs," Cumshaw remarked, with a +sidelong glance at Moira. + +"No more I am," I told him. "I don't like our chances either." + +"But," he protested with a puzzled indrawing of his eyebrows, "as far as +we're concerned it's as easy as falling off a log." + +"Just as easy," I agreed, "providing our friends the enemy don't +interfere. They don't seem to be the kind of men who rest on their oars, +that is if we can judge anything from their past exploits." + +"You're right there, Carstairs," Cumshaw said. "I never gave them a +thought, but I see now that they're likely to prove a pretty active +menace to our safety." + +"That," I said, turning to Moira, "cuts out all possibility of your +coming with us. You can't be running into danger." + +"Can't I just," she said with an assertive toss of her head, "and, +whether I can or not, I'm going," she finished. + +I looked at Cumshaw. I could not tell from his expression whether he was +pleased or sorry. His face was as devoid of emotion as that of a china +doll. + +"What do you think about it?" I asked him straight out. + +He glanced at me in his turn with a curious baffling light in his dark +eyes, and I felt as if he had stripped my soul bare of all pretences and +was reading my thoughts in all their nakedness. + +"I should think," he said at length with an air of absolute +impartiality, "that Miss Drummond is the mistress of her own actions and +neither you nor I have any right to dictate what she is to do." + +"Have it your own way then," I said, with difficulty suppressing my +rising anger. "But if anything goes wrong remember that I warned you +beforehand." + +"I'll remember that," Moira said, and she favored Cumshaw with a little +smile of gratitude. She never smiled at me like that, not even in those +far-away days when we were all the world to each other or thought we +were. Which in the end amounts to much the same thing. + +"Well, if you don't mind," said Cumshaw, breaking an awkward silence, +"I'll go home now and think matters over. And then to-morrow we'll +decide what to do." + +"Home?" I echoed. "I thought----" And then I stopped. + +"I'm staying in town," he said with a smile. "That's what I meant when I +said home." + +"In that case," I said, "you'll be handy whenever we want you. You'd +better leave your address in case we want you in a hurry." + +He scribbled his address--a leading city hotel--on a blank card and +handed it to me. I glanced at it and then thrust it into my pocket. When +I looked up again he was holding Moira's hand in his, just a trifle +longer than convention demanded I thought, and saying something to her +that I did not catch. She smiled in return, a dazzling smile, and said +quite distinctly, "Please call whenever you feel inclined. There is no +need for us to stand on ceremony with each other now we're partners." + +I saw him to the door. At the threshold he turned and spoke with one +foot on the step and the other on the ground, taking up that attitude of +unaffected ease that gives an air of friendliness to even the most +formal conversation. + +"I'm rather pleased I met you, Carstairs," he said. "In one way and +another I've heard a lot about you, and I think you've got the kind of +level head we'll need before we've seen this business through." + +"Thank you," I replied. I was nearly going to say 'Soft words butter no +parsnips,' but my common-sense came to my aid just in time to prevent me +making a fool of myself. He held out his hand, and I took it in the +spirit in which he had offered it to me. Nevertheless I was absurdly +jealous of the man, though Heaven knows I hadn't the least reason to be. +I could see with half an eye that he had made a good impression on +Moira, and the way she had spoken to him, especially that last remark of +hers, showed me that she was egging him on. It didn't matter one single +solitary damn to me. I had told her clearly and definitely that we were +business partners and that love was altogether out of the question. Yet +here was I, the moment a potential rival appeared on the scene, behaving +for all the world like a spoilt child. And, like a spoilt child, for my +own good I needed someone to bring me sharply and suddenly to my +bearings. + +Cumshaw bade me a cheerful good-night. I saw his lithe figure swing +along through the sub-tropical darkness of a moonless summer night. Then +the latch on the gate clicked with the ringing sound of metal striking +against metal. I closed the door and went inside. + +Moira was standing in the study just as I had left her, standing as +motionless and devoid of life as a statue of carven stone. I don't think +she heard me at first. + +"Well," I said conversationally, "how is it now?" + +She turned at the sound of my voice and faced me squarely. I could see +that her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and something inside of me +moved me with a sudden impulse to go up to her. I placed my hands on her +shoulders and was amazed to find how unsteady they were. They trembled, +my hands trembled! And yet they used to tell me in the old Island days +that I hadn't a nerve in my body. + +I was quite prepared for anything except what really happened. I could +feel a sort of tension in the atmosphere, and I expected her to do +something theatrical. But she didn't. She backed away from me, but she +didn't go far. The table was behind her. + +I don't know how long we stood looking at each other. It seemed a +lifetime to me, and the silence was the sort that a man feels it +sacrilege to break. + +"You make it very hard for me, Jim," Moira said calmly. The tears were +still in her eyes, but her voice was under excellent control. It didn't +vibrate a note. She looked at me as she spoke, looked me straight in the +eyes, and I think it was then that I began to realise what an ass I had +been making of myself. + +"How do I make it hard?" I asked. My voice was curiously low, almost +husky in fact. I rather think she noticed it and took heart therefrom. A +man is very easy to handle when he is not quite sure of himself. + +"I've got to pretend," she said in answer to my question. "Pretend that +you are nothing to me when----" + +She stopped short. It seemed almost as if she regretted that she had +said so much. + +"Go on," I urged. + +"There's not much to say," she continued. "I just want to tell you, to +tell you in such a way that you'll believe me, that if I've treated you +shamefully I've suffered for it. I can't make any reparation for it; you +were quite right in saying that it is too late now to alter things. I +just want you to know that I'm sorry. I can't say much more than that, +though I don't want to take any credit for it now, seeing that it's been +practically forced out of me." + +I remembered the way she had been standing when I came in, the tears in +her eyes, and the way she had backed out of my reach the moment I put my +hands on her shoulders. It would have been so easy for her to have done +the other thing, but she hadn't, and I admired her all the more for it. +She might easily have captured me in the first flush of emotion, but she +had instead given me time to think and a chance to get away if I wanted +to. There was something in her attitude that appealed to my sense of +fair play and at the same time prevented me from in any way +misinterpreting her last remark. + +"Moira," I said, "were you crying when I came in just now?" + +Her lip trembled a little as she asked, "Why do you want to know?" + +"Because," I said slowly, "I've solved one riddle already to-night, and +I've a mind to solve another before I go to bed." + +"I was crying," she admitted, "only I didn't mean you to see." + +"And why was that?" + +"I thought you might imagine I was just doing it." + +I knew what she meant; there was no need for her to explain further. She +didn't want to influence me in any way; whatever I did must be done of +my own free will. + +"I'm beginning to understand," I said slowly. + +"Then you'll forgive?" she said quickly, and one hand went up to her +throat as if she were choking. + +I nodded and impulsively she held out her hand to me. I did not take it, +and she half-turned so that I would not see what was in her eyes. + +"Can't we even be friends?" she said, with a queer little catch in her +words. + +Something snapped in my head at that, and the words I had been holding +back all the evening came to my lips in a rush of speech. + +"I didn't mean you to take it that way," I said desperately. "I wouldn't +shake hands because ... that's not what I want. It's too stand-offish. +I'm going to do more than forgive, and we're going to me more than +friends, if you still want me." + +"You know I want you," she said softly with her head bowed shyly and the +blushes rising in her cheeks. + +I took her in my arms and kissed her. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY. + + +Once we had definitely fixed the date of our departure we lost no time +in making ready. As the days went by I began to see more and more +clearly that it was just as well I had thrown in my lot with Moira and +young Cumshaw. Neither of them had the least idea of organisation, and +they seemed to think that things just happened of their own accord. +Moira couldn't see anything else but the glamor and romance of the +adventure, and I found that, for all his cleverness, Albert Cumshaw did +not know what was essential to the expedition and what wasn't. + +"We can't start off like a picnic party," I said to them on one +occasion, "and just wander on until we come to a likely spot. We've got +to have everything planned out right down to the last box of matches and +the last cartridge." + +Cumshaw drew a deep breath. "Cartridges!" he said, "Are you talking +figuratively?" + +"No," I answered. "I'm speaking literally. It might yet be the case of +the last cartridge. You must remember that, even if we get the gold and +come back here in safety, we're still not out of the wood. We're not +safe until our friends the enemy are removed from our paths for ever." + +"You mean that they must be killed?" Moira demanded. + +"I don't mean anything of the kind," I answered. "As a matter of fact +I've got a perfect horror of killing people. It makes such a mess, and +I'm naturally a rather tidy person." + +Cumshaw laughed softly, but Moira bit her lip, though she made no reply +to what I had said. + +"Now, while we're talking about it," I ran on, "I just want to impress +on you the fact that we aren't going off into the bush--not the kind of +bush that you read about in books, where it's all scrub and myall blacks +and things like that. Most of the time we'll be within coo-ee of +civilisation. Most of Western Victoria's pretty well settled, and it's +just the luck of the game and the formation of the country that this +valley's remained so long hidden away. We'll be near enough to people +all the time to be noticeable if we do anything remarkable. We've got to +go to work so that we'll attract as little attention as possible. We'll +want food, enough for several weeks, I suppose, and we've got to get it +and take it with us, and do it all in such a way that nobody's going to +wonder what we're after. Another thing that that reminds me of. Miss +Drummond here had better keep out of sight as long as she can. We two +can manage to escape observation, but people always want to know what a +woman's doing in it when there's anything suspicious happening." + +"If you mean by that that you think I can be turned back at the last +moment, you're making a mistake," Moira informed me. + +"I don't mean that," I said calmly, "but I want to take every precaution +that I can. I'm in charge of this expedition, elected by three votes to +nothing, and I'm going to run things the way I think best. It mightn't +be the best way in the end, but that's quite another matter. I haven't +wandered across the world from Yokohama to the White Nile and from the +Klondyke to the Solomons without knowing how to organise an expedition." + +"You're right there," Cumshaw acknowledged. "You're the only one amongst +us who's had practical experience. In future what you say goes." + +"That's the spirit," I said briskly. "What have you to say, Moira?" + +"You know best," she answered. "As long as you don't leave me out +altogether I'll agree to anything, but I want to take my share of the +risk too." + +"Apparently," I remarked, "everyone's afraid that everybody else'll have +the lion's share of the fighting. Well, if I can fix it, there'll not be +any fighting at all." + +"What do you mean?" Cumshaw asked interestedly. + +"That's nothing to do with the situation at present," I informed him. +"You'll all see when the time's ripe. Now what's next?" + +"There's nothing more that I know of," Cumshaw volunteered. + +"And you, Moira?" + +"I think I've got everything fixed," she answered. + +"That means we can start at the end of the week," I said with +satisfaction. "It looks as if fortune's turning our way at last." + +The three of us laughed together, and Cumshaw I think it was who said, +"Success to the expedition!" It sounded very nice, and we were all so +sure that things were going to turn out well. But there was one little +point that all of us had overlooked, and that was destined in one way +and another to upset our plans to a remarkable extent. + +Profiting by Bryce's experience, I decided to leave the car at home, as +I realised that we would have to abandon it sooner or later, and nothing +is so apt to set foolish people talking as an apparently ownerless car. +I resolved on making our headquarters at the spot where by all accounts +the unlamented Mr. Bradby had met his death. For one thing all the later +developments of the chase had centred round that one spot, and Bryce +himself had gone there unhesitatingly by the shortest and most direct +route he knew of. I couldn't see at the time where I could find a better +jumping-off place. To say the least it was a fixed point from which to +start exploring, and we had the comforting knowledge, though it might +not be of any practical use to us, that the valley itself was within two +or three days' march. With it as the centre we would have to cast a +circle with a radius of anything up to fifty miles, and then somewhere +within the enclosed area we might, or might not, find the elusive vale +that held the treasure. + +We approached the rendezvous by widely divergent routes. It was a rather +extravagant precaution, no doubt, but then I wasn't taking any risks +that I could possibly avoid. The murderous gentlemen who were quite +certainly on our track were a power to be reckoned with, and at the same +time we had to keep our eyes open for the law itself. It was all right +for Bryce to say that he was playing within the law--quite possibly he +was--but I had no idea of paying any percentage to the Crown. I was +rather hazy on the matter myself, though I seemed to have heard +somewhere or other that the Government always gobbled a big share of the +loot in the case of treasure trove. At any rate the quieter we kept the +expedition the less likelihood there was of us having to pay anything at +all. + +Moira was to travel with me from Murtoa, and Cumshaw decided to train as +far as Landsborough--the recently opened Crowlands to Navarre railway +would take him that far--and then do the rest across the hills on foot. +His was the longer and more difficult route, and I had intended at first +to take it myself, for reasons that have nothing at all to do with this +tale; but he was so insistent, and at one stage threatened so much +unpleasantness, that I gave into him, if only for the sake of peace. +Before we started I had another talk with Moira and endeavored to +dissuade her from accompanying us, but she very calmly told me that she +had additional reasons now for going with us. There was sure to be +trouble, she admitted that much; but then wasn't her place by my side, +more especially if things weren't all they should be? Her logic left +much to be desired, but it had the one merit of achieving its object. It +was devastating; it completely crushed all my arguments and left me +without a leg to stand on. + +The late March of the year 1919 saw the three of us at the rendezvous, +which we had reached without incident of any sort. Contrary to our +expectations the other party had not been sighted, and the outlook was +certainly auspicious. For all that I felt worried. Everything was going +along too swimmingly, and I had a queer feeling that we would meet with +trouble very shortly, if only to even things up. Ease and success can +only be won after much expenditure of blood and tears; there is not a +thing in life worth trying for that can be bought with a minimum of +effort. The greater the prize, the greater the price one must pay; +always one pays, with health, with limbs, sometimes with life itself. + +During the time Moira and I had been travelling together I had slept of +a night with one eye more or less open, and the strain of being +constantly on the alert was just beginning to tell on me. As a +consequence I was very pleased when Cumshaw suggested that we should +take watch and watch about. I agreed, with the reservation that I must +always be on guard for the dawn-watch. I didn't explain why I was so +anxious to take that particular watch, and, though I noticed Moira +looking curiously at me, she made no remark. I knew from experience that +men are at their sleepiest about four o'clock in the morning, and an +attack can be successfully launched then that would fail at any other +hour of the day or night. I had yet to test Cumshaw on active service, +so I claimed the four o'clock stretch for my own. It doesn't hurt to be +careful; I've never yet met anyone who was sorry he had taken +precautions. + +We camped within a hundred yards of the creek, and after supper Cumshaw +and I sprawled on the grass and talked. Moira had retired to an +improvised tent we had fashioned for her, and, as it was just out of +earshot, we were free to speak our thoughts. I had not seen Cumshaw for +the better part of two weeks--he had started from his own place and come +right on from there without calling on me again--and I hoped that he +might have some further news for me. I asked him casually how his father +was getting on. + +"Right enough," he said, blowing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. +"Some days you wouldn't think there was a thing wrong with him. He'll +talk pretty lucidly at times, but it isn't anything that can be of any +use to us. He doesn't seem to have taken much notice of the position of +the valley, he apparently thought at the time that it would be very +simple to pick it up again, and I fancy that Bradby must have confirmed +him in that view. He couldn't have taken into account the way they had +twisted about in the mountains. It's the simplest thing in the world to +lose yourself here, the more so if you're confident you know your way." + +"You've about struck it there," I said. "I just want to give you a +little piece of advice, and I hope you won't take it amiss. I don't want +to talk about this expedition any more than I can help for two reasons. +One's this: I don't wish to cause Miss Drummond any more uneasiness than +is absolutely necessary. You know as well as I do that there's a big +chance of the lot of us being wiped out just about the time we get +within sight of the end. I wouldn't be surprised if they let us walk +into a trap and finished us at their leisure. As for the other +reason--well, it's never safe to say that you're alone anywhere. If we +raise our voices above whispers here we might be giving away valuable +information. So just let us keep watch on our tongues. More hopes have +been ruined and more chances of success spoilt by gabbling tongues than +by any other dozen causes all rolled together." + +"I can quite understand that," Cumshaw said, between puffs at his pipe. +It was one of those neat little affairs with a round bowl, a +spick-and-span pipe that had burnt an even color and that shone as +brightly as the day he bought it. My pipe was a sorrier article; it was +battered and blackened, and one side of the bowl was down beneath the +level of the other, showing that it had been lighted oftener with a +blazing brand than with the orthodox matches. In a way it was like its +owner; it had been tested by fire and had survived the test. If I were +philosophical--but then I wasn't, and that's about all there is to it. + +"I didn't go to Landsborough," Cumshaw said after a pause. "I missed my +train at Ararat, and so I came on to Great Western. It's much the +shorter way. I wish you had known of it before." + +"I'm all the better pleased you came that way," I told him. "It will +help to disorganise the chase." + +He bent over, picked up a live coal in his bare fingers and applied it +to his pipe before replying. + +"I rather think," he said slowly, "that it will have just the opposite +effect." + +"You can't have any nerves in those fingertips of yours," I said. "Why +will it?" + +"I don't seem to have any, do I? I think I saw one of the men at Great +Western." + +"You don't know them," I said. "How could you?" + +"Mr. Bryce described them in his letter," Cumshaw answered. "This man +fitted the description of one of them, a dark sort of chap." + +"Spanish type?" I queried. + +Cumshaw nodded. "I wonder why it is," he ran on, "that we're always more +suspicious of that sort of man than, say, a fair type?" + +"Relic of the Armada, I suppose," I suggested. "Tell me all about the +man you saw." + +"I was coming along the roadside," Cumshaw began, "past one of the +vineyards, when I noticed a man working close at hand. I was just going +to pass by when it struck me that he was the only person about. I +thought that rather queer and I gave him a second look. Then I saw that +he wasn't digging, as I had thought at first, but that he was scratching +aimlessly at the ground. One of those queer feelings that seem +altogether unrelated to fact crept over me. Call it second sight or any +other fancy name you please, the fact remains that I suddenly knew--not +thought, mind you; I knew--that he did not want me to notice him and +that he was pretending to be one of the workmen, just so that I would +pass him by without more than a cursory glance. When I came to think it +over afterwards, I remembered that it struck me when first I saw him +that he was the only man I had seen in the vineyards for miles. Of +course I had that idea in my mind when I looked at him the second time. +That doesn't explain how I understood that I was the very man he did not +want to see. He had his head bent down naturally, his hat well drawn +over his face, and he went on scratching and scraping as if his very +life depended on the energy with which he worked. I didn't get more than +a passing glimpse of him, and that wasn't too good--you can't go over to +a man and pull off his hat just because he looks suspicious--but I'd +swear on a stack of Bibles that he's one of the men we'll have to deal +with." + +"Perhaps so," I said. "At any rate I'm not going to allow chance workers +in the fields to rob me of my night's rest." + +"No more am I," assented Cumshaw. "So you don't think there's any +likelihood----." + +"I don't think anything at all," I cut in. "I take proper precautions, +that's all." + +He made no comment on my unceremonious interruption, but the strange +half-smile he gave me showed that he realised in part at least how his +story had affected me. As a matter of fact I was more perturbed than I +cared to admit. I had been thinking things over all day, and it had just +occurred to me that, seeing we had heard nothing of them since Bryce's +death, it was quite possible that they were even now following up the +false clue that he had laid for them, and which one of them had got away +with the night of the burglary. If that were so, why had they come back +and killed Bryce? It was a curious enough situation, and the more I +thought about it the more I became convinced that I was right. Our +immunity so far was due solely to the fact that the others were well +occupied with the faked plan they had stolen on that memorable evening. +Now on top of that Albert Cumshaw must come with this circumstantial +story of his and upset all my deductions. The strange part of it was, +though my reason told me that he had been a victim of his own brilliant +imagination, part of my mind--that part that believed in second sight +and banshees and were-wolves, and stuff of that sort--told me that he +was not so very much wrong after all. + +"I'll get to sleep," he said, interrupting the train of my thoughts. +"I'll be fresh when my turn comes for guard." + +"Tell me," I said, for the matter had been puzzling me all night, "where +did you learn to light your pipe with red-hot coals?" + +"Oh, that," he said with a laugh. "I saw you doing it earlier in the +evening, and I made up my mind that what you did I could do." + +"Then it must have burnt you." + +"Horribly," he said with a grimace. "Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE PROMISED LAND. + + +"This," I remarked, "is the sort of country Adam Lindsay Gordon would +have loved. No man but he could do justice to it." + +"We've been out seven days," said Cumshaw, "we've travelled God knows +how many miles, we've climbed up a Hades of a lot of mountains, and I +don't think there's a blind creek for twenty miles that we haven't +followed to the end and back again, and at the end of it all we're no +nearer the Valley than we were when we started. Gordon might have made +an epic out of it, but I'm hanged if I'm poet enough to appreciate the +country or philosopher enough to ignore the sheer physical discomforts +of the journey." + +"If you'd been through the things I've been through," I asserted, "if +you'd been in New Guinea when there was a gold-strike on and had to +climb hundreds of feet up a straight cliff to get to the fields, hanging +on all the time to creepers as thick as your wrist, you'd think this was +just Paradise. If you'd been with me in the sweltering Solomon Island +jungle, where every breath you took made the perspiration stand out on +your forehead in big beads, or up in the Klondyke when it was fifty +below and a man's own breath turned into ice about his mouth, you'd know +what life really meant. Here you're in the Garden of Victoria; you see +sights that knock some of the beauty spots of the world into a cocked +hat, and all you can do is growl at the country. You can't expect to go +up and down the mountain side in a lift or anything of the sort." + +"It's all very well for you to talk like that," he objected. "You're +used to this kind of life; we're not. That makes all the difference." + +"So it seems," I said. "But I haven't the slightest intention of giving +in yet. As a matter of fact I rather think we've been a little too sure +that we were on the right track. We haven't been as careful as we might. +We've gone along blindly." + +"What do you mean?" he demanded. + +"Just this. We've been so infernally confident that we only had to find +a clump of wattle and a lone tree, and we were there. Now that lone tree +must be somewhere on the east side of the valley, and, despite the fact +that it's on high ground, it's so hidden that we wouldn't see it until +we were almost on top of it. It might be perfectly visible from inside +the valley, and at the same time be hidden from the outside by another +hill. As for the wattle, has it ever struck you that wattle only begins +to spring into bloom about the end of August? It's almost April now, and +you wouldn't find anything but just a mass of green bushes." + +"If there was a valley, which same I'm beginning to doubt," Cumshaw said +doggedly, "we'd have found it before this." + +"I don't know what Miss Drummond is cooking for our tea," I remarked +irrelevantly, "but it smells good." + +"If you think you can put me off that way," Cumshaw said, "you're mighty +mistaken. I'm tired of it all, and for two pins----" + +"You know very well," I cut in, "that I haven't one pin, let alone two." + +"You apparently don't understand that I'm perfectly serious." + +"Yes, I do. I'm serious too. I'm quite satisfied that we haven't been +going about things in the right way. We've made mistakes, and it's up to +us to find out what those mistakes are and go over the ground again." + +"I'll give it another week," said Cumshaw, "and if we haven't found +anything by then we might as well retire, for you can bet your sweet +life we never will." + +I didn't answer him immediately. I was sprawling on the grass, on my +back, with my eyes turned to the west, and something in the color of the +sky surrounding the setting sun caught and held my attention. Curiously +enough it made me think of Gordon and "The Sick Stockrider"--it must +have been floating through my mind when I began to talk--and it needed +very little effort of imagination to see-- + + The deep blue skies wax dusky and the tall green trees grow dim, + And the sickly, smoky shadows through the sleepy sunlight swim, + And on the very sun's face weave their pall, + +but there were no blue skies or green trees. The heavens were just a +dull slate-grey with streaks of smoke-colored cloud scurrying across +from the west, and the trees that might have been green in a better +light were black and gaunt, like weird spectres which had taken on wild +shapes and unorthodox hues. There was just the slightest suggestion of +chill in the atmosphere, and that, combined with the scurrying clouds, +made me study the sky with growing anxiety. + +"If that's not a storm brewing," I said, pointing skywards, "I'm +anything you like to call me." + +Cumshaw cocked one eye in the direction indicated. "It does look like +it," he said lazily, after a prolonged study of the sky. + +I looked him up and down as best I could. One can't survey a man too +well when lying on one's back; but something in the glance and more that +I gave him, struck him as being so odd that he sat up and stared at me. +I made no movement. + +"Well?" he queried at length. + +"It's just the other way round," I said in my most aggravating tone. + +He looked at the sky again at that, and then turned his dark eyes on me. +"I can see it's going to be a fine old storm," he said, "but I don't +understand why you're worrying about it." + +"I'm not," I said a trifle untruthfully. I was worrying, but not as much +as he seemed to think. Ordinarily I would have told him just what I +fancied was wrong, but this time I didn't fancy anything. For all I +could say to the contrary there was just an ordinary April storm brewing +over across the hills, and presently the thunder would begin, and then +the lightning, and after that the rain; still I felt like a man who is +on the verge of a great discovery, on the brink of finding that +something that means all the difference in the world between success and +failure. Even now when I come to consider calmly the emotions of that +hour I cannot say that what I have just written down is a true +description of my feelings and thoughts. What happened later that same +night has had its effect on my memory and has mixed itself inextricably +with my earlier recollections. All this about my fancying that the storm +meant more than a storm usually means may be due to the fact that, but +for it, the momentous event itself would never have occurred. + +I do know that I was a little doubtful about the security of the +improvised tent that sheltered Moira, and I think I must have showed a +little of that anxiety in my face. That perhaps was what struck Cumshaw +and led him to make the remark that he did. + +Presently Moira called us to tea, and we hauled ourselves up from the +grass and went over to her. The fire was burning up brightly and threw +the tent and the surrounding trees into bold relief. It made the sky +look even darker and more threatening than before. The scurrying clouds +had all passed away by now, but in their train came thicker and heavier +ones, big black things that rolled slowly across the evening sky with +the heavy implacability of Fate. They moved like the advancing vanguard +of a wild army of infamy, and soon had shut out altogether the dying +light of day and the growing radiance of the silver stars. The sudden +chill of thirty minutes previously had passed like a swift breath of +wind into the limbo of lost and forgotten things, and in its place had +grown a deadly hot oppressiveness that somehow reminded me of the +sweltering dampness of those Gaudalcanar forests I had so recently +described to Cumshaw. It filled us with something of its own torpor, so +much so that we ate languidly, and when we spoke at all we spoke in +monosyllables. + +The storm broke almost without warning. There was just one low +premonitory growl of thunder, the sky was split by a yellow sword of +lightning, and then the rain came pouring down in the way that can be +best described as the bursting of the flood-gates of heaven. At that our +torpor vanished and we made an unceremonious rush for the poor shelter +afforded by the tent, bringing with us what was left of our meal. The +tent had not been constructed with a view to holding more than one; at +its poor best it was but a rough shelter from the night dew. We had +never intended it to keep out the rain; it had not entered our heads as +even a remote possibility. I, perhaps, as the only one of the three who +had had any practical experience of out-door life, should have kept just +such a chance in mind. The fact remains that I overlooked it, and I +can't say that then or at any other time was I sorry for my +miscalculation. + +I had lived so long in the tropics that the rain that came seemed to me +the veriest drizzle, but the others had their own opinion, as I learnt +the moment I said what I thought. Cumshaw remarked that it was the devil +of a downpour, and Moira expressed her idea in less forcible though more +polite terms. It was no use my saying that if I were in Port Moresby or +Samarai the rain would have gone through the thin fabric of the tent +like a rifle bullet through butter-cloth. They pointed out with equal +truth that the present rain was dribbling through even as it was, and +that a quarter of an hour more would see us saturated. + +Whether we would or not must remain a mystery. No doubt we would have +found out sooner or later had it not come on to blow. The thunder had +ceased and the lightning flashed less frequently, now that the rain had +set in, but the wind began to rise, and almost on the last clap of +thunder I felt the wall of the tent shiver under the impact of the +blast. It occurred to me in one of those flashes of memory that we +sometimes have in moments of tension that we had not troubled about +running up guy-ropes, and there was nothing now to hold the tent if the +wind caught it squarely. Scarcely had the thought formed in my mind than +an extra fierce blast caught the light fabric, shook it as a +Newfoundland dog would shake a small terrier it had picked up in its +mouth, and then, before we knew what had happened, the wind had whirled +the tent away like a child's balloon, leaving us standing bareheaded, +shivering and exposed to all the force of the elements. I left Moira +with Cumshaw and groped about in the darkness, hoping to find our +missing tent, but I might as well have been hunting for the proverbial +needle in a bundle of hay for all the chance I had. I merely got wet +through, so much so that I changed by mind completely about the force of +Victorian storms, and when at last I found my way back to the others I +was sopping from the sole of my boots to the top of the woe-begone hat I +had hurriedly thrust on my head. As matters stood I could not get any +wetter, and I supposed that Cumshaw was in much the same state. +Nevertheless there was Moira to think of, and the sooner we got to +shelter of some sort, a cave on the hillside or even a tolerably thick +bush, the better it was going to be for all of us. I shouted this to +Cumshaw--it was very hard to hear now that the gale had risen and was +blowing everything to ribbons--and he understood me only after a couple +of attempts. So I took Moira by one chill wet hand and Cumshaw took the +other, and thus in the darkness and the steady soaking rain began our +hunt for shelter of some sort. + +I haven't an idea how far we walked. We just kept on and on, and really +I think we did not notice the storm so much as if we had been standing +still. Most of the time our attention was too taken up with feeling our +way, for the ground was very slippery and more than once I almost lost +my footing, to give more than a passing thought to personal discomfort. +It was too dark to see more than an inch or so in front of us, and even +then we saw nothing more than a black wall that constantly receded as we +advanced and yet was still as near as ever in the end. I don't think any +of us realised that we had drifted into a gully or a track of some sort +until I put out a tentative hand and felt a wall of bushes dead in front +of me. I pulled back with a jerk, but my sudden movement startled the +others, and in the flurry of the moment they did the very thing I had +been trying to avoid. They slipped and I went with them. I had sense +enough to release Moira's hand the moment I felt the drag of her body, +and then, before I quite knew what had happened. I found I was whirling +along in the mud, cavorting down the side of something that looked, or +felt--for I couldn't see, as I've already stated--very much like the +edge of a precipice. I brought up, just when I was beginning to wonder +how much further I had to fall, by colliding with something that felt +very like a hedge of brambles. There I lay in the soaking rain, with the +mud plastered thickly on my face, and every bit of breath knocked out of +my body. + +Somehow it seemed quieter down here. The wind still whistled and roared, +but it was some feet or more above my head and it touched me not. +Presently I began to sit up and wonder where I was and what had happened +and what had become of the others. I felt very stiff and wet and dirty, +and my right knee ached more than I liked. I was just on the point of +staggering to my feet and feeling my way to leveller ground, when quite +close to me I heard something very like a moan. I dropped on my knees at +that and put out a tremulous hand. My fingers touched something soft and +cold, and then I realised that it was a human face--Moira's, judging by +the tangle of hair. I put my hand under the head and raised it up. A +heavy mass of loose hair fell damply about my arm, and I knew then that +it was my sweetheart I held. She stirred a little and moaned again. I +was in a quandary. Clearly something must be done, but how or what I +could no more say that I could fly. The night and the storm had +swallowed Cumshaw up for the time being, but, beyond wondering vaguely +what had become of him, I never gave him a thought. All my life long I'd +been too used to men taking care of themselves to worry myself much +about my missing colleague. But Moira's case was insistent and called +for immediate attention. If there had been any shelter handy, even the +rudest of bark humpies, I would have known what to do, and, what is +more, I would have done it on the instant. Obviously the only course I +could take was to crawl in under the ledge or precipice, or whatever it +was, down which we had fallen and trust to the overhang--if there was +any--and the few bushes that I had crashed through as I spun down, to +keep the worst of the rain off us. + +Accordingly I rose to my feet and lifted Moira up in my arms. She was a +greater weight than I had thought, and that and my own condition caused +me to walk with the uneven steps of a drunken man. At last I found some +sort of recess in the side of the slope--I came across it more by +accident than of set purpose--and there I crouched with Moira between me +and the wall. The rain whirled in on me, and, if possible, I got a +trifle wetter than before, but I had the satisfaction of knowing that my +body kept both the rain and the wind away from her. It was a tedious +enough job, holding the unconscious girl in my arms, and more than once +I felt like dropping her, only that I recollected in time that I was +crouching ankle deep in mud. I am stronger than the average, and I have +had my body trained in hard schools, but even that has not made a +Hercules of me. I was more than glad when she opened her eyes, or, +rather, when she moved a little in my arms and then spoke. + +She was not hurt much, she said in answer to my question, but she felt +stiff in every limb, and the dampness seemed to have soaked through to +her very bones. How was I, and what had happened? + +I answered the two questions in almost the same breath. Brevity is not +only the soul of wit, but it is the sole method of carrying on a +conversation when both parties are wet and shivering. + +"Have you any idea where we are?" Moira asked. + +I shook my head and then, remembering that my answer was unintelligible +in the darkness, I said, "I haven't. We fell over a cliff or a +precipice, and that's all I can say about it." + +"Why," she said, "you're shivering!" And she put out her hand to touch +me. Her fingers came to rest on my arm, and I could feel her stiffen in +the dark. + +"Jim, why did you do it?" she demanded, with yet a curious softness in +her voice. + +"Do what?" I fenced. + +"As if I don't know that you're in your shirt sleeves. That's your coat +that's wrapped round me." + +"What if it is?" + +"You shouldn't have done it. You'll catch your death of cold." + +"Much chance there is of that," I grunted. + +She was silent for a time, and then I felt her arms about me, and I +realised that she was trying to place my coat about my shoulders. + +"If that's what you're after," I said, "I'll put it on. But you'll catch +cold yourself." + +She made no direct answer, but I heard something that sounded curiously +like a sob. + +Presently she moved up closer to me and a soft voice whispered in my +ear, "Jim, I'll be warmer if you'll let me snuggle up to you. It's a +long time since last ... I didn't deserve it then." + +I reached out in the darkness and drew her towards me. With her tired +head resting on my shoulder we waited for the dawn. + +It was a long time coming, how long I cannot say, for in my then state +of nervous tension the hours dragged with the awful unendingness of +eternity. At last the black wall of night cracked into streaks of grey, +looking for all the world like feeble sun-rays filtering through the +chinks in the roof of a deserted house. Moira stirred a little, and I +saw in one hasty glance that her wet hair was streaming about her face +and her saturated dress was caked with black mud. + +I held her off at arm's length and looked her over quizzically. Then we +each laughed outright at the sight the other presented. + +"You're wet through, Moira," I said, "and you look as if you've been +having a mud-bath. All the same you're a brick to have stood it all the +way you have." + +"I'm not and I haven't," she said cryptically, and silenced my further +objections with a kiss. + +When I looked out on the world again it was to see that the day had +already broken, and a dirty and bedraggled Albert Cumshaw was making his +way towards us with slow and painful steps. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WE ENTER THE VALLEY. + + +I cannot explain why just at that instant my heart gave a thump. There +was nothing for it to thump about. Cumshaw, toiling up the slope, for +all his woe-begone look, was the most ordinary figure imaginable, and +there was nothing in the landscape to excite or rivet attention. It was +a white dawn, and, though the rain had ceased long before, everything +was still dull and grey. In the hollows the mist lingered and hung +between us and the further view like a great white curtain. That and the +advancing Albert Cumshaw completed the picture, a picture that was +neither interesting nor sensational. Yet at the sight, as I've already +stated, my heart jumped queerly and unaccountably. Do coming events +really ever cast their shadows before them? Are we sometimes granted +visions of "the things beyond the dome?" I do not know, and, even if I +did, I would not care to express a definite opinion in my own case. I +have seen things dangerously like coincidences happen so often in my own +experience that I have grown chary of either affirming or denying that +there is something more than chance at the bottom of it all. Still the +fact remains that twice within twenty-four hours the same queer feeling +crept over me, and on each occasion the course of events proved that it +was premonition. But that is running a shade ahead of the story. + +I ran down the slope to meet Cumshaw, and the first thing I noticed was +that there was a great livid bruise across his right temple. + +"You've got a nasty knock there on your forehead," I greeted him, in the +casual self-contained fashion of the men who live in the open. + +He answered me with one of those laughs that are nothing more than +almost soundless chuckles. + +"Is it hurting?" I enquired with a trace of anxiety in my voice. + +"Hurting, hell!" he said impolitely. "Of course it is." + +"How did you do it? Was it an accident?" + +"I don't look as if I did it just for amusement, do I?" he snarled. + +"It hasn't improved your temper, my lad," I said under my breath. Aloud +I remarked: "We're all in much the same boat. Miss Drummond's had a +stiff time of it, and I've got all my bruises where you can't see them, +but I can assure you that they hurt all the same." + +At the mention of Moira a shadow passed over his face. Frankly I could +not quite understand his attitude towards her. At first I was rather of +the opinion that he was in love with her, but latterly I hadn't been so +sure, for he had had the decency to suppress his feelings once he found +how the land lay. The mere mention of her name calmed him down +wonderfully. He even seemed a little ashamed of his outbursts of temper. + +"I might have remembered that I wasn't the only one in the party," he +said. "But then I came a fearful cropper, and on top of it I've been out +in the rain all night." + +"We were a little luckier." I told him. "We found an overhang and that +kept off most of the rain. All the same I wouldn't mind a chance of +drying myself." + +"And we're likely to get that," he said with some asperity. "All our +goods are God knows how many miles behind. I've got a box of matches in +my pocket, but they're just about as useful here as they would be at the +bottom of the sea." + +"Come now," I said, "it's not as bad as all that. We've got a lady to +take care of, and we've got to shuffle our brains about a bit and see +what we can do. We'll never get anywhere by standing still railing at +our fate." + +"Well, you're in charge, Carstairs," he told me. "It's up to you." + +"It is," I admitted, "and as the first step towards success I might +point out to you that the mist is lifting." + +He wheeled round at that with greater agility than I expected, seeing +that by his own account he was still feeling pretty dicky. The mist was +lifting in truth, and yellow spears of sunlight were thrusting +themselves through like hat pins run through cloth. + +"It'll be the better part of half an hour before the place's clear," he +asserted, with one eye cocked at the sky and the other watching me. + +"In the meanwhile we'd better go back to Miss Drummond and set her mind +at rest," I suggested. + +He trudged along at my elbow with a step that lacked its usual buoyancy, +but the sidelong glances I stole at him every now and then showed me +that he was fast recovering his spirits. The bruise on his forehead, +seen now close at hand and in a better light, was not the fearsome thing +I had at first taken it to be. True, it lent him an air of general +disrepute, but then none of us were quite fit for the drawing-room. Even +Moira, sheltered as she had been, showed very much the worse for wear. +She greeted Cumshaw with a cheery smile, the bravest thing about her I +thought, and a ready question as to his adventures. But he could tell +her little more than that he had gone over the edge with us and rolled +away until he brought up against the stone or whatever it was that had +bruised his face so nicely. Our own story, what there was of it, was +soon told, and a few glances about us showed that in the murk of the +night and rain we had missed our footing and shot off the track a dozen +feet or so to the level ground below. Above us waved the tall shapes of +kingly gums, and below us lay vast spaces of bracken. Beyond that we +could form little idea as to our position, though the mist was slowly +drifting away now. + +"The best thing to do, I suppose," I remarked, "is to get back to last +night's camping-place and see what we can find of the stores. Of course +we shouldn't have left them, but it's no use being wise after the event. +We've to go back as quick as we can now, and maybe we can dig up +something warm. That's supposing that everything isn't too wet to be +used." + +"As I remarked before, it's up to you," Cumshaw threw at me. "Lead on, +Carstairs." + +"If you can show me any way back to the main track, I'll lead on with +pleasure," I told him. "There's none visible that I can see, and I don't +fancy that my eyes are over dull." + +Cumshaw said something under his breath, but before I could drop on him +for it Moira interposed. "How about walking round at the foot of this +ridge and seeing where it'll lead us to?" she suggested. + +"That's as fine a plan as any," I answered. "We'll try it." + +We did. We sauntered along listlessly for the best part of an hour, and +then it struck me all of a sudden that we were rising rapidly. + +"We're on the wrong track," I said, stopping short. "We didn't come down +as steep a slope as this last night." + +"You're right there, Carstairs. We didn't," Cumshaw said, stopping short +and looking about him with a puzzled air. + +"Why not keep right on?" Moira advised. "It's just possible that we're +working back to the track." + +"We'll give it a chance," I said, after chewing the suggestion over in +silence for a few minutes. "We'll keep on for ten minutes or so, and if +it gets any worse we can always go back." + +The ground became rougher at every step and finally in despair I called +a halt. The sun was well up by this and the mist had cleared away from +the hills, though filmy vapors still lingered in what I knew must be the +hollows. In front was a causeway, strewn with boulders, and beyond that +what I took to be a sea of wattles. I could see no use in progressing +further in that direction, and I said so as succinctly as I could. +Cumshaw was inclined to argue, but the consensus of opinion was against +him. The outcome of it was that we decided to retrace our steps. Before +we did so I suggested looking about for something that would give us an +indication of our present position. + +I stumbled on it quite by accident. Another step further and I would +have fallen down the funnel-shaped opening that gaped at my feet. I drew +back just in time to save myself, and for the second time that morning +my heart gave a jump. To think that we had gone so close to missing it +altogether! The thing, so to speak, had lain at our feet all the time. I +turned about and searched the landscape for my companions. Moira was +visible in the near distance; the wattles had swallowed Cumshaw. + +"Cumshaw, Moira, I've found it!" I called at the top of my voice. + +Moira whipped round at the sound of my voice. I waved to her and she +came running towards me. A second later I saw Cumshaw come out of the +shadows, and I yelled at him with all the power of my lungs. I don't +know what he must have thought of the yelling, dancing, frantically +waving figure that caught his eye. He must have fancied for a moment +that I had gone mad. Then, in a flash, so he says, the truth dawned on +him, and he in his turn sprinted towards me, the one idea uppermost in +his mind being that the valley must have been found. At the same instant +my soul was singing "Eureka!" and Moira was weeping and laughing at the +same time. + +"Cumshaw," I cried, as he came within speaking distance, "if that's not +the funnel that your father and Bradby left the valley by you can call +me a goggle-eyed Chinaman." + +And then somehow we all seemed to be talking together. + +"That must be the valley down under the wattles." + +"I knew we'd find it." + +"It only shows that one should never give in." + +"If we hadn't fallen down that slope last night...." + +"If I hadn't kept going when you all wanted to turn back, you mean." + +"It's found now and that's the best part of it." + +I must confess that I lost my head just as the others did. I should have +known better, I suppose, than to go yelling out our discovery at the top +of my lungs, but knowing's one thing and doing's altogether different. +I've seen miners on the Lakekamu shouting themselves hoarse over even +less of a discovery, seasoned men who knew how and when to hold their +tongues. Could tyros like ourselves be blamed for what we did? I don't +think so. + +"That's the funnel right enough," Cumshaw said. "There can't possibly be +two of the same kind in the same district. I'm sure this is the one; +it's been described too often to me for there to be any mistake about +it. But what's puzzling me is the valley. There doesn't seem to be much +of one here. All I can see is wattles, wattles whichever way I look." + +"There's one way to settle it," I said in an aside to him, and I looked +at Moira. + +He gathered from my warning glance that I had something to say I didn't +want her to hear, so he shifted out of earshot with me. + +"There's things you don't want a girl to see," I explained as we walked +off; "but if this is the valley the skeletons of those two horses should +be down there somewhere," and I pointed over the edge of the funnel. + +"I'll go down," he said with alacrity. "I guess it's my go. It's time I +took some sort of a risk." + +"You surely don't expect there'll be anything wrong?" I queried. + +"I can't say," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Anyway, I +think you'd better get back to Miss Drummond. She's looking over this +way, and in a minute or so she'll be asking awkward questions, if you +don't go and tell her something." + +"All right," I agreed. "Look as slippy as you can, but be careful. An +injured man is always more or less of a nuisance, you know." + +He grinned cheerfully at that, and then, without another word, turned on +his heel and made off towards the funnel. I walked back to Moira. + +"What are you going to do now?" she asked me suspiciously. "What's Mr. +Cumshaw after?" + +"He's going down through that funnel-shaped thing," I answered. "He +wants to see what's at the end of it." + +The golden-brown eyes regarded me thoughtfully for a space and then: +"Why didn't you go yourself instead of sending him?" she asked. + +"It was his suggestion," I said defensively. "He seemed to think he had +a better right than anyone else, so I didn't argue with him about it. I +let him go." + +"We could all have gone," she hinted. + +"We could have," I agreed, "but we didn't." + +In the meantime Cumshaw had lowered himself carefully down into the +opening, felt about a bit with his feet, found a foothold, and then +swung easily down from projecting ledge to projecting ledge. He emerged +quite unexpectedly into a tangled mass of wattle. That puzzled him much, +as it had puzzled me a few minutes previously; the elder Cumshaw's tale +contained no mention of wattle save the golden barrier at the further +side of the valley. Yet here was wattle as far as the eye could reach. +It looked as if a generous scientist, like the man in H. G. Wells' "Food +of the Gods," had let loose some power capable of forcing on this +abnormal growth. The valley itself was in an undulating sea of +vegetation. Had it been early in September the place would have been a +vast expanse of golden glory, but as it was late March the dominant +color note was that of grey-green. Under the circumstances it was as +clear as daylight how the elder man had missed the place. It was buried +under the rank growth, and all definable features, as we learnt +later--everything that could be used as a leading mark--had disappeared +or been swamped by the wattles. The bushes were not so thick about the +lower entrance to the funnel as to impede Cumshaw's movements, and so he +began to look about him in the hope of locating the one thing that would +definitely identify the place. The horses had been shot close to the +wall of rock, and it was a practical certainty that some trace of their +bodies would be found in the vicinity. Ten minutes' close search brought +to light a pile of bones that might or might not be those of the missing +animals--Cumshaw had no knowledge of anatomical structure and so did not +feel quite clear on that point--but the remarkable feature about them in +his eyes was that they were all more or less blackened, and amongst them +he found a heap of lime-dust, which he took to be bones reduced to their +elemental form by the application of great heat. Still he felt justified +in regarding the identity of the place as being sufficiently +established, and without wasting any more time he returned the way he +had come. + +"There's no doubt about it," I agreed when I heard his tale. "This is +the valley right enough. I vote on going down there at once. The old hut +can't be far away, and it'll be somewhere for us to camp in and fix up +our clothes. And that reminds me that one of us'll have to go back for +our stores and extra clothes. There's no need for both of us to go; one +will do. However that can wait until we find the hut." + +"I'm not hungry," Moira said, "and I think my clothes are practically +dry. The sun's coming out now, and I don't see why we should feel any +the worse for last night's adventures if we only take reasonable care of +ourselves." + +"If that's the case," I remarked, "let us go down by all means." + +I sent Cumshaw down first, as he was the only one of us who was familiar +with the place, and then I handed Moira down to him. Or, rather, I +helped her down; Moira at the best of times is no light weight. For a +moment we stood blinking at the entrance to the funnel, and then Moira +caught my arm in her impulsive way and cried, "Come on, Jim! Let's enter +into Paradise!" + +I smiled at her quaintness and made to follow her, but Cumshaw +interposed quickly. "Not that way," he said. "This is the way." He +glanced at me as he spoke, and I realised that he was taking us by a +path that would lead us away from the mouldering bones. + +The ground was rough underfoot, and the matted cover of vegetation that +effectually hid stray boulders from view made it all the worse. In +places the wattle grew over our heads in a profusion that was almost +tropical, and more than once we would have lost our way had I not taken +our bearings at the start, and thus was able to guide the party by means +of my pocket-compass. + +"In your father's day there was a wood hereabouts," I said to Cumshaw +presently. "There doesn't seem to be one now." + +"There doesn't," he said. "Can you understand how practically the entire +physical features of the place have changed so much?" + +"Frankly I can't. But they apparently have, and that's about all we can +say. We'll just have to keep our eyes open and trust to luck." + +"Our luck seems to have held good so far," Moira said, turning to me +with high hope in her face. + +"Mind your footing," I said warningly. "You want to watch every inch of +the way. There's all sorts of rocks and boulders under this stuff." + +"I'll be careful," she smiled, and scarcely were the words out of her +mouth than her foot caught in something. She pitched forward on her face +before I could spring to her assistance. I lifted her up carefully, but +she seemed none the worse for her fall. + +"I don't know what it was that tripped me," she confided. "It wasn't a +boulder or anything of the sort. I think it was a log of wood, yet my +foot seemed to catch underneath it." + +I was on the point of offering a suggestion, but something held me +silent, and instead I dropped down on my knees and felt feverishly in +the undergrowth. Of course it was a silly thing to do--there might have +been snakes and all manner of noxious crawling things there--but I +didn't think of that at the time. I was too intent on solving the +riddle. My hand touched something.... I straightened up and faced the +others. + +"Moira and Cumshaw," I said. "I've found the hut. That's a piece of it +there." Bending down, I dragged to light a rough-hewn beam that possibly +had been the threshold plank. It was weather-worn, and in places the +fungus had grown thickly on it; but I could see for all that that it had +been warped and twisted and charred in the blaze of a fire. Three pairs +of eyes met across the plank, and three lips put the same idea into +words. + +"There's been a fire here," we said in chorus. + +"And that," I added on my own account, for the benefit of the others who +had not jumped to the same conclusion as I had, "and that explains +everything that's puzzled us since we entered the valley. There's been a +bush fire here at some period during the last twenty years. It destroyed +the hut, it burnt down the wood, and it made that pile of lime you +found, Cumshaw." + +"What pile was that?" Moira queried quickly. "I didn't see any." + +"Mr. Cumshaw passed a pile in the bushes as we came along," I said +off-handedly. "The heat must have rendered the stones down." + +She accepted my explanation at its face value. + +"No wonder the place remained hidden," I ran on. "If you'll look over +east, where there should be a lone tree, you won't find any. It's wattle +everywhere you look. The fire cleared out all the trees and forced the +wattle on in their place. If you came by here on any side but the one we +came by you'd take this to be just an ordinary hollow full of wattle." + +"You're talking nothing else but wattle," Cumshaw interrupted. "What has +the wattle to do with the fire anyway?" + +"Why, don't you see?" I cried. "Without the fire there wouldn't have +been any wattle here. The seed'll lie dormant in the ground for years +sometimes; it takes great heat to germinate them. That's why wattle +always springs up in profusion after there's been a bush fire. The same +thing happens with grass, the coarser kinds, though to a lesser extent." + +"I see," he said gravely. "It means that we are back just where we +began." + +"It doesn't mean anything of the sort," I said quickly. "All this is in +our favor. We're better off than we were before." + +"I don't see how that is," he replied. + +"But it is," I persisted, "and I'll show you why when the time comes. +And now there's plenty to be done. One of us has to go back for the +provisions that we left behind last night, and the other's got to stop +here with Miss Drummond and run up a bit of a bark humpy that'll keep +off the wind and won't let the rain through. Now if you're as hungry as +I am you'll understand just how pressing the need of that food is. It's +you or I, Cumshaw. Which of us is to go?" + +"I'll toss you," Cumshaw offered. + +I nodded, and he drew a coin from out his pocket and spun it in the air. + +"Heads!" I called. + +We bent down over it. "It's tail," said Cumshaw. "I go back for the +food," I said. + +I straightened up and spoke seriously to the pair of them. "Cumshaw," I +said, "do as much as you can while I'm away, and keep one eye on the +horizon all the time. You must remember that there's always danger +about; the luck's been with us so far, but it may turn any minute, and +our rivals are just the sort of men who'd come on you suddenly and shoot +before you could say 'Jack Robinson.' And as for you, Moira, keep out of +harm's way and do what you can towards keeping a good lookout. I'm going +across to the other side, as I reckon that we must have travelled round +the valley last night." + +"You'll be careful, won't you, Jim, dear?" Moira whispered. + +"Aren't I always careful?" I said. "It's you that's got to watch out. +Now, one kiss, dear. I'll be back as soon as I can possibly manage it." + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later I had gained the further wall of the valley, and +found that, with the help of the bushes, it was the easiest thing +imaginable for an active man like myself to haul himself up over the +ridge and drop on the track which Abel Cumshaw and the late Mr. Bradby +had trodden so many years before. I took my bearings carefully, then +snapped up my pocket-compass and set off down the road with as jaunty a +swing as I was capable of. I had long got over my stiffness, and now +that the sun was shining brightly I began to feel more confident than +ever that all was going well. If it had not been for the terrible way in +which the dread purpose of our rivals had been brought home to us +already I would have felt absolutely at ease. As it was I did not let my +rosy anticipations of the future interfere at all with my sense of +caution. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DIES IRAE. + + +As a matter of strict fact the place was much further away than I had +anticipated. We must have wandered a considerable distance in the +confusion of the evening's storm and covered more ground than we had +thought. I had positioned the sun as I had left the valley and judged +the time to be about eleven o'clock; "that," I thought, "will bring me +back by two at the very latest." But really it was close on five, and +the shadows were already dropping down over the country-side before I +was ready to return. I found our little store of goods intact, though +most of them were rain-soaked, and as a measure of good fortune I +retrieved the tent whose sudden departure had been the primary cause of +our hurriedly shifting camp. There was a fair load in all, but when I +had made it up and rolled everything packwise in the tent and fastened +it on my shoulders with what odd bits of string I found handy, there +wasn't anything in it that would seriously try the strength of a +seasoned explorer like myself. Then, because the night was beginning to +draw in and I did not want to go stumbling through the valley in the +dark, I set off at my top pace. I don't claim to be anything wonderful +as far as walking is concerned, but if I were ever asked what I +considered my record I would point back to that very night. I forced +myself along, my whole being intent on reaching the valley before the +sun slipped down behind the hills. I think it was more will-power than +sheer physical strength that kept me moving. I was just a little anxious +about Moira too. Cumshaw was a fine chap and clever in his own way, +though he did have occasional spurts of temper; but he lacked my +woodcraft experience, and I wasn't sure but what he might go to pieces +if any prowlers pounced down on him unawares. Neither he nor Moira had +ever come up against anything that would teach them to act as quickly as +they could think, and, though they might work like niggers when they +were under someone else's orders, an emergency that threw them on their +own resources might find them seriously wanting. + +The shadows lengthened as I sped along, the tired yellow sun slipped +down behind the hills like a penny-into-the-slot machine, and the early +April twilight touched all inanimate objects with its own drab lack of +coloring. I had no fear of losing my way in the darkness--I had too much +locality sense for that--but the possibilities of my being ambushed +appeared too many to be pleasant. A hurrying man, who is also +heavily-laden, cannot pick his footsteps with the meticulous care that +he would like, and it seemed within the bounds of probability that some +strange listener might start out on my track and put an abrupt period to +my career of usefulness. I have an unqualified and not unreasonable +objection to being cut off in what is practically the flower of my +youth. I was afraid. I admit that quite frankly, and I have yet to find +the man who has not known fear whenever he drifted into a tight corner. +But fear is not the hall-mark of a coward; it is at worst a natural +impulse to seek safety and take precautions, and at its best it is the +intellectual penalty that a strong man pays for having a will-power that +will not permit him to scurry away from danger and earth himself like a +rabbit in its burrow. + +I reached the valley without incident, scrambled down the historic +slope, now as slippery as a child's mud-slide, and was half-way across +the open space before I received my first shock. Some queer sixth sense +pulled me up in mid-stride. I had heard nothing, I had seen nothing; but +for all that I knew that a strange and obtrusive presence was very close +to me. The New Guinea native can at times tell the presence of an enemy +simply by his sense of smell, and I suppose I've lived so long amongst +them that I have acquired something of this kind. Be this as it may, I +was aware of the other man's proximity long before my faculties went +into action and confirmed me in my belief. + +I slipped my shoulders out of the pack-strings and dropped it +noiselessly on the ground. At that precise instant I heard a stealthy +movement on my left hand. It was so dark that I could not see an inch in +front of my face, but a little eddy of the breeze brought me the merest +whiff of stale tobacco--the sort of smell that comes from a pipe that +has been put out before it has completely burnt away. It was that dead +scent that always seems to hang about the vicinity of a newly quenched +fire. I was so close that I caught the sound of the man's breathing. +With every second breath there came a barely perceptible wheeze, and in +an instant my mind flashed back to the night of the burglary in Bryce's +house and the man I had caught coming out of the library. I was so sure +of it that I wasted no further time in stalking him; no two men in the +world could have that same regular wheezing breath. It requires a neat +sense of distance to catch an invisible man round the throat when he and +everything else tangible and real is hidden under cover of Stygian +darkness; but this time I made the snatch of my life, and as luck would +have it, had him by the windpipe before he realised that there was +anyone within a quarter of a mile of him. I didn't give him a chance to +cry out--I had no idea how close his friends were, if he had any--but +just threw all my weight into my clutching hands and quietly but +inexorably choked the life out of him. In the struggle his hat fell off +and I released one hand and ran it through his hair. Up till then there +was a lingering suspicion at the back of my mind, that after all I might +have throttled Cumshaw by mistake, but the feel of that straight hair +completely burked the last of my doubts. There was no possible chance of +mistaking Cumshaw's curly crop for the strands I held in my free hand, +for he suddenly went limp under my hands, and when I fumbled for his +heart I could not feel it beating. At the time I felt rather cut up, and +considered that I had practically killed the man in cold blood; but +afterwards, when I came to reckon up the tally of disaster, I was sorry +that I had passed him out so peacefully. There were a lot of other +methods I might have used had I known in time. But then I didn't, and +that makes all the difference. + +Satisfied in my own mind that the stranger was out of action for good +and all, I rose to my feet and threaded my way back to where I had left +my pack. I slipped the strings over my shoulders and set off again in +the direction I hoped to find Moira and my companion. But scarcely had I +taken a dozen steps forward when the silence of the night was shattered +by the report of a revolver, and in an instant a perfect fusillade had +begun. I dropped all caution at that. Throwing the pack from off my +shoulders, I drew my revolver as I ran. I simply tore across the +intervening space like a red god of vengeance suddenly descended on a +planet of sin. The sound of the shots had maddened me beyond all belief, +and in my then mood I would have walked single-handed into a whole army. +Luckily for myself I had not gone far before I collided with a wattle +bush, and the scratches I received brought me back to a saner frame of +mind. I saw with an appalling clarity of vision that I was taking the +worst possible course. Cumshaw and Moira were being attacked--that was +beyond question--and my game was to come upon the attackers unawares and +either rout or put as many of them out of action as I could with the +weapons at my command. + +So when I moved off again I had slackened my pace down to a stealthy +cat-like tread that took me along with an incredible absence of noise. +As I moved forward I began to turn the configuration of the place over +in my mind and wonder to what practical use I could put the fine natural +cover of the bushes. As I could see none I put the matter out of my head +and devoted all my energies to coming to immediate grips with the men +who had murdered the eternal peace of the valley. + +Presently I caught sight of a little red flash from one of the +revolvers, but as I had no idea as to whose it was I held my hand and +commenced to circle round the fight. It must be remembered, in order to +gauge the seriousness of the situation, that the night was as black as +the ace of spades, and that the only guide I had was the occasional +flash from a revolver--a flash that might have come from either friend +or foe; I had nothing to tell me which. It was in this queer fashion +that I was progressing when the toe of my boot touched something soft +and alien. I slipped down by the side of it and ran my hand over it. It +was a man's body--the still warm body from which the pulsing life had +suddenly been hurled. With my experience of the other man I had handled +earlier in the night I felt for the hair, and, to my utter horror, I +clutched a crop of short, crisp curls. It was Albert Cumshaw beyond a +doubt. I did not waste a moment in useless sentimentality over the dead. +The truth flashed across my mind with the blinding clearness of +lightning. Moira was by herself, fighting like some heroic goddess +against those other bestial savages. I know it is the fashion to picture +men in such moments as going berserker, but I don't think in my case +that I have ever been so sanely clear-headed in my life. It was a +monstrous and incredible thing that this quiet little corner of the +quietest little State in Australia should be polluted by the presence of +the incarnate fiends that had murdered Bryce, that had killed Cumshaw, +and were even now seeking to send Moira to join them in the shades. A +cold, pitiless anger took possession of me, and I set about my work of +vengeance as calmly as if I were going rabbit-shooting. I knew now of a +surety that I could shoot at any man who came within range without fear +or favor. + +It was then I blessed my stars for the matted undergrowth and the wild +profusion of wattle. The one deadened the sound of my movements and the +other gave me all the cover I needed. The game was now fairly in my +hands, and if I lost it would be through no one's fault but my own. It +was quite evident on the face of it that the attacking force had no idea +that a third party was maneuvering outside the range of fire, and I +counted on that fact to assist me in my work. The one drawback at +present was that I had no notion which was friend and which was foe. The +shots seemed to come from all round the compass, and any one of them +might be Moira's. It was quite on the cards that she was moving round in +a circle, in the full knowledge that every time she fired she shot at an +enemy, and again it was just as likely that she knew nothing at all +about Cumshaw's death. Clearly it was a situation that called for an +immense amount of care on my part. + +I had no time to waste puzzling the matter out; whatever I did had to be +done as quickly as possible, for I had no guarantee that the one-sided +warfare might not terminate fatally at any moment. One of the attackers +was just as likely to hit Moira as she was to hit him. I had slipped up +the catch of my revolver long before this, and was carrying it in such a +fashion that it could be fired instantly. I felt ready for any +emergency, and the contingency that presently arose found me well +prepared. There was a stealthy rush through the undergrowth, and a man +backed hastily in my direction. I couldn't see him, but I knew that it +was a man by the sound of the footsteps. There is always a perceptible +difference between the footsteps of a man and a woman, but it requires a +trained ear to pick it out. I slipped down into cover as he rushed back, +and, judging more by sound than sight, I fired as he passed me. He came +down heavily amidst a crash of breaking branches and the smashing of +twigs. "I seem to be the only sure-footed man about to-night," I thought +as the fellow thudded to the ground. At that precise moment, as if to +give the lie direct to me, a deafening report sounded right in my ear, a +pain as of a red-hot needle stabbed through my right shoulder, and I +pitched forward on my face. Even as my nose ploughed through the soft +soil it occurred to me to wonder if I had received a shot intended for +the other man, or if he was not as dead as I had fancied and signalised +his escape by shooting me in his turn. I was more scared than hurt, and +I quickly picked myself up and clapped an anxious hand to my throbbing +shoulder. The ball, by the feel of it, had done nothing worse than skim +through the fleshy part of my arm, and I was in no wise incapacitated. I +thanked my lucky stars that I was whole and entire, save for a spoonful +or so of unwanted blood, for I rather guessed that I had heavy work +ahead of me before I went to sleep that night. + +Just as my mind was clearing again I became aware that someone was +striking matches. I distinctly heard the scrape of one along the top of +the box, and I fancied I saw a tiny phosphorescent glow such as a match +makes when it misfires, but in that I may have been mistaken. As I +watched for another flash it dawned on me that the artillery had ceased +fire, and, for aught I knew to the contrary, I was probably the last +bird topped off that night. Therefore the person with the matches could +only be one of the victorious side, and was just as obviously counting +up the casualties. + +There came another little interlude of scraping, a match spluttered +undecidedly for a moment and then glowed brightly. After the Stygian +darkness the light came as a queer physical shock, and for the space of +a heart-beat I blinked like an owl in broad daylight. I think the other +person must have been just as much dazzled as I was, for the light died +out and the glowing tip of the match fell to the ground without a +movement from either of us. But it was followed almost instantly by +another match, less damp than its fellow, for it splashed into light +right away. And there in the little circle of radiance I caught sight of +the one face on earth that I ever wished to see again. + +"Moira!" I gasped and glided to her side. + +She dropped the match in the surprise of the moment, and I heard her +breath come and go before she answered, "You, Jim! Oh, I'm so glad! I +thought perhaps...." + +"They didn't," I said grimly, cutting across her thoughts. "It was the +other way about." + +"Mr. Cumshaw, Jim? Have you seen him anywhere?" + +"No," I said truthfully enough. I hadn't seen him; it had been too dark, +and I dared not strike a match. + +"Oh, I'm afraid he's been shot. We got separated in the darkness, and I +don't know what happened to him." + +"How did you get separated?" I queried quickly. + +"We were making for the cave and I lost him in the dark. After that they +started firing, and I just fired back, more to keep up my courage than +anything." + +"But where on earth did you get the revolver? You hadn't one of your +own." + +"Yes, I had, Jim. I brought it with me, and I didn't say anything +because I thought you might laugh or else be angry with me." + +"You've certainly shown that you know how to use it," I said dryly. + +Something in my voice must have told her what had happened. "What do you +mean?" she asked in a frightened tone. "Did I shoot anyone?" + +"Yes," I said slowly. "You pinked me. Right in the shoulder. It's only a +flesh-wound; nothing to worry about." + +"I've hurt you and I didn't mean to," she wailed. + +I reached out and seized her by the shoulders. "Look here, Moira," I +said with a semblance of sternness in my voice, "you've done a man's +work to-night and it's making you hysterical. Don't let it. Pull +yourself together, for heaven's sake if not for mine." + +I think it was just that last bit that brought her round. "I'm sorry, +Jim," she said, though what there was to be sorry about was more than I +could say. + +"And now, Moira," I ran on before she had time to say anything more, +"the sooner we finish that interrupted journey to the cave the better. +It's not as good as the hut would be if it was still standing, but it +gives us shelter, and that's the main thing. Also we can light a fire +and sleep the night in peace, now that the gang seems to have been +rubbed out for good." + +She made no answer, so I took her arm, and thus we commenced our walk +across the valley. I found the pack without any trouble, though my heart +was in my mouth for fear that we would trip over poor Cumshaw's body. +But the luck was with me that night, though it hadn't been with him, and +I reached the pack and hoisted it on my shoulders without either of us +striking any of the victims of the fight. The sting of the wound in my +shoulder made the pack an uncomfortable burden, but I bore it as best I +could, for I was afraid that Moira would notice me if I kept wriggling +it into an easier position. So I fought the pain all the way to the +cave, which we reached in something under five minutes. Moira did not +speak a word all the way, and somehow I hadn't the heart to break the +news of Cumshaw's death to her. It had to be done sooner or later, I +knew, but I was inclined to put it off as long as possible. + +Once in the cave I built a little fire of chips and dry bracken that had +somehow escaped the rain. That done I turned with a clear conscience to +the task of making tea. Moira, however, had forestalled me; the billy +was already full, and she but awaited me to adjust the tripod of sticks +that held it in its place over the fire. It was while I was bending over +doing this that she must have noticed the bloodstains on my sleeve. At +any rate, when I straightened up, she looked at me with accusation in +her eyes. + +"Why didn't you tell me before that it was as bad as that?" she asked. + +"Because it isn't," I answered with cheerful paradox. But she would have +none of my jesting, and if I hadn't allowed her to wash and bind it up +right away I'm afraid I wouldn't have got any tea that night. When she +finished she placed her hands upon my shoulders and kissed me full on +the lips. + +"My dear," she said brokenly, "you would die for me, I know, and yet I +so little deserve your love." + +I had tact enough to suppress the banality that was trembling on my +lips. + + * * * * * + +"I wonder what could have happened to Mr. Cumshaw?" she remarked about +an hour later. "You'd have thought he'd have been here long ago if he +was all right." + +"Maybe," I said, bending my head over the fire so she would not see my +tell-tale face, "maybe he's not satisfied that this is our party." + +There was an interval of silence and, though I did not look up, I knew +that she was regarding me steadfastly. I could feel her eyes boring into +my head like twin gimlets. + +"Jim," she said suddenly and sharply, "what are you hiding from me? What +has happened to Mr. Cumshaw? I know something has gone wrong by the way +you're acting." + +I raised my eyes to meet hers; it was impossible to hide it any longer. +"The very worst that could happen," I said frozenly, and I dropped my +head once more. + +When I looked up again she was crying very softly to herself. I could +understand her sorrow, and for once her regard for the man caused me no +stab of pain; one cannot be jealous of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE SOLUTION. + + +The grey light of the early dawn found me wide awake and alert. I felt +much fatigued after my exertions of the previous night, and would dearly +have liked to have slept an hour or so longer, but there was that to be +done which would admit of no delay. Further out in the Valley lay three +dead men, and I felt I must get them out of sight before Moira awoke. +Accordingly I scribbled a short note of explanation on a leaf torn from +my pocket-book, placed it in a conspicuous position, and, taking with me +the light spade we had brought with us, I slipped noiselessly out of the +cave. I found the bodies of our two enemies without any trouble, but, to +my great surprise, there was no trace of Cumshaw. He had disappeared as +utterly as if the earth had opened up and swallowed him. True, there +were broken branches and snapped twigs galore, but of signs that would +show me where the body had been taken or what had happened after I had +left, there was absolutely none. For the moment I wondered if it had all +been but a vivid dream, but the sight of the torn and scarred ground and +the memory of the other two bodies told me that it was only too real. +Obviously then the corpse had been moved, but where or by whom I could +not say. + +I spent the next half-hour in scouring the valley from end to end, yet +when I had finished I was compelled to admit that I was no nearer to a +solution than before. All the time, of course, there was a perfectly +simple explanation staring me in the face, but it was so infernally +obvious that I missed it. + +As my search had not led me any further forward, I shut the matter out +of my mind for the present and turned to the less engrossing though +certainly more pressing task of burying the bodies that remained. The +spot I chose for the grave seemed rather familiar to me, but for the +moment I could not say just what it brought to my mind. I pegged away +with the spade, and had already dug a fair-sized hole when, +unexpectedly, the further side of the grave caved in. I swore under my +breath at this brilliant result of my efforts, and, with the intention +of clearing away the rubble, thrust my spade deep into the loose earth. +It met with a solid obstruction, something that seemed to me like the +root of a tree, or----At that I stopped dead. Could it be possible that +I had struck the foundation of the hut? + +The morning we entered the valley Moira had tripped over one of the +loose logs that had once been part of the building, and at the time I +had attached peculiar significance to the discovery; but now it appeared +that I had actually gone one better. Without more ado I made the dirt +fly, and in less time than it takes to tell I had shot away the covering +earth and brought to light the object that had at first drawn my +attention. I saw then, with a gasp of relief, that it was indeed the +eastern foundation of the hut that I had unearthed. Whoever had built +the place had built well, for the thick cross-piece still remained +tightly nailed to the stout posts that had supported the foundation. The +fire that had swept the neighbourhood had somehow failed to consume it, +though subsequent developments had buried it under piles of bracken and +dead brushwood. It was an amazing discovery, and under the circumstances +the luckiest one imaginable. At the very least it enabled me to place +one of the fixed points that were vital to the discovery of the plunder. +At the same time it showed me how I might be able, with a little extra +luck, to locate the sight of the burnt tree. + +I went on with my digging. + +Half an hour later I finished my self-imposed task, swung the spade over +my shoulder, and prepared to return to the cave. I could see Moira in +the distance moving towards me, and I guessed that my prolonged absence +had made her feel somewhat uneasy. + +"Where have you been all the time, Jim?" was her greeting. "I was just +beginning to fear that something had happened to you." + +"Something has," I answered, "but not in the way you mean. I've located +the exact position of the hut. That piece of wood you tripped over must +have been only a log that escaped being fully consumed. We're well on +the way towards finding the treasure now." + +She eyed me keenly before she spoke again, and I knew what she was going +to ask me almost before she put her thoughts into words. + +"Was that all you went to do?" she asked. + +"No," I said, "I came out mainly to bury the dead." + +She gave a little shudder at that, but her voice was steady enough as +she said, "And you did? All of them?" + +I shook my head. "Not him," I said ungrammatically. + +"Why?" she demanded, with Heaven knows what idea at the back of the +question. + +"Because," I said distinctly, "because he wasn't there." + +"Jim, whatever do you mean?" she cried. + +"I can't say any more than I've just said," I told her. "When I went to +look I found he wasn't where I'd left him last night, and, though I +searched the valley from end to end, I couldn't find sign or sight of +him." + +"It's impossible," she asserted. "You can't make a dead man fade into +thin air like that. If he's not in the valley, he's been taken out of +it." + +"And who's taken him out?" I countered. "There's only two ways out. +Nobody's passed us during the night, and anyone that went out through +the wattles would leave a trail like an elephant." + +"That's true enough," she admitted crestfallenly. And then she turned on +me swiftly. "Jim," she cried, "it's possible.... He might...." + +The idea jumped into my mind at almost the same moment, but it seemed +too preposterous for belief. + +"No," I interrupted. "It isn't. He couldn't. Moira, I tell you he was as +dead as a door-nail when I reached him." + +She made a little gesture of despair as she realised to the full the +bitter futility of attempting to solve the puzzle, yet I had a feeling +that she had not quite given up hope. She did not make any further +remark on the way back to the cave, and she certainly wasn't as much +thrilled by my discovery of the ruins of the hut as I had expected her +to be. I let her be; it's never safe to divert the current of a woman's +thoughts. + +I stepped into the cave ahead of her, and no sooner had I passed from +the light outside into the interior darkness than a crisp voice snapped +at me. + +"Hands up!" it said tersely. + +I shot my hands into the air more as a measure of precaution than +anything else, for I recognised the voice--the voice that I thought had +been silenced for ever. + +"Cumshaw!" I ejaculated. + +I could not see him since he was lurking right in the interior shadows, +but some electric quality in the air convinced me that his astonishment +was as great as mine. Nevertheless he answered me in tones that were as +calm as could be. + +"So it's yourself, Carstairs," he said. "I'll have to apologise for +being a little previous with you, but you must remember that you are +standing in your own light and I can only see your outline. And----Ah! +here is Miss Drummond too." + +He came towards us at that, a dark figure looming out of the gloom. And +the next instant we had him one by each hand and pelted him with +questions. + +"I thought you were dead," I said. "How did you come alive again?" + +"What happened?" Moira asked. + +"How did you get here and what were you doing all night?" + +"One question at a time," he said laughingly. "It seems pretty obvious +that I'm not dead, doesn't it?" + +"It does," I admitted. "But you were dead, or you appeared to be, when I +left you last night." + +"I don't quite understand," he said. "What do you mean?" + +I told him then how I had stumbled across his body on my return the +previous evening, how I had identified him, and, satisfied that he was +dead, had left him to attend to more pressing business. I related how I +had scoured the valley that very morning and failed to find the least +trace of him. What was the explanation of the seeming miracle? I asked. + +"There's nothing miraculous about it," he said. "Last night I must have +been creased, sort of stunned, you know. The bullet didn't go near any +vital part. It just ploughed along the back of my neck and knocked me +unconscious. I suppose I would seem pretty dead to anyone who stumbled +across me. It's not always so easy for a layman to tell whether a man is +really dead or not. However, I remember coming-to just on daylight, and +hearing someone crashing through the bushes. It struck me then that I +didn't know how things had panned out, so I'd better take cover until I +made sure. So when you were hunting for me I was running away from you, +keeping a couple of jumps ahead all the time. I gradually edged round +towards the cave, and was just in time to see a dim figure slip out into +the bushes. I wasn't close enough to see more clearly. Miss Drummond, +you say. Yes, I suppose so; but I didn't know that then. However, as the +cave seemed deserted after that I took possession with the intention of +turning the tables. And then----But you know the rest yourself. How much +further have we got?" + +"Lots," I said. "The others are dead and buried, and I have found the +original site of the hut. Once we locate the lone tree we're right." + +"That should be easy enough," said Moira with a woman's airy assurance. + +Cumshaw watched us both with a queer smile flickering about his lips. + +"What do you think of it, Carstairs?" he said at length. + +"I don't fancy there'll be much difficulty in that," I answered. "It +should be plain sailing from now onwards." + +"It strikes me," he said, "that we're just entering upon the toughest +stretch of the lot. However, the sooner we get to work the better. I +vote we start right away." + +"But, Mr. Cumshaw," Moira protested, "do you think you feel well +enough?" + +"Miss Drummond," he answered, "I've got pains all down my neck, and my +head's humming like a hive of bees, and I've got incipient rheumatics in +every joint in my body from lying all night on the damp ground. It's bad +enough to have all that wrong with me, without being compelled to spend +another day in idleness. No, if I get to work at once I'll feel much +better. Work, you know, is a good soporific." + +"I suppose you know best," she conceded, a little doubtfully. + +"I've been thinking things over," I remarked as we made our way back to +the site of the hut, "and it's just struck me that something I once +heard Bryce say might have some bearing on the matter. The night those +chaps burgled us he said, 'They're up a gum-tree when they should be +under one.' I'm not so sure of the exact words now, but that's the +substance of them anyway." + +"But," Cumshaw objected, "he didn't know as much about the Valley then +as we do now." + +"Quite so," I said. "I never thought he really meant anything by what he +said, but that remark's been running through my head. It seems to me +that everyone right through has been obsessed by the idea of the tree, +and now that it's disappeared we're at a loose end. Everybody, from your +father and Bradby down to Bryce and ourselves, has taken it for granted +that a tree's vital to the solution." + +"Isn't it?" Cumshaw queried quickly. + +I shook my head. "Not in the least," I said. "If the tree was absolutely +necessary it'd mean that we'd have to wait until 3rd or 4th of December, +the day on which Bradby buried the treasure, and the only day of the +year on which the sun, the tree and the threshold of the hut would be in +an exact line. Bryce's idea of having to wait three months must have +been conceived in the belief that the 3rd or 4th June would answer +equally well. It might, but I'm not so sure about it. I guess there'd be +a lot of difference in the declination of the sun. But now the tree's +gone we're left without that seemingly necessary leading mark." + +"What are we going to do about it?" Cumshaw demanded. + +"We can't give up after having gone so far," said Moira. + +"We're not," I told her. "There's a way out of it, and the simplest way +on earth. It's so infernally simple that we've all overlooked it. It +narrows down to a simple problem in geometry. Do you remember what the +cypher said?" + +"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line +measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at +right angles to the previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'" +He rattled through the directions so rapidly that I knew he must have +had them off by heart. + +"That's it," I said, while the others listened in breathless interest. +"Now this is the position to my mind: The line that runs through the +doorway, the tree and the sun must go due east. The sun at that time of +the year would be due east. Well, all we have to do is to cast our east +line, carry it along for seven feet, and then turn so that we are facing +direct north." + +"And at right angles to the previous line," Moira reminded me. + +"It's the same thing," I said. "Direct north runs at right angles to +direct east, if you want to know. However, when we've got our north line +we follow it for twelve feet, and after that we dig. Quite possibly +Bradby made some slight variation--he wouldn't have the necessary +instruments to make his figures absolutely exact--but, as I've said +before, I don't see that we can go very far wrong. Whatever variation +there is won't matter much once we start digging. If we allow a foot or +so in all directions we'll be on the safe side. What do you think, +Cumshaw?" + +"Well," he said slowly, "it sounds feasible enough, and if it turns out +as well in practice as it does in theory I'll have nothing to say +against it." + +"There's only one way of making sure," I said tentatively. + +Moira turned on me. "What's that?" she asked with unfeigned interest. + +"Trying and seeing for ourselves," I answered. "Here we are, right on +the very spot, so why not put it to the test?" + +Neither of them answered. A queer, speculative look crept into Moira's +eyes and Cumshaw paled a little beneath his tan. It was the crucial +moment of the expedition, and the mere adoption of my suggestion meant +that in the next few minutes we would be face to face with either +failure or success--none of us knew which. While we were in ignorance +there was always room for hope, but the instant our investigation was +concluded the matter would be settled for good or for evil. + +"Well," I asked, "what about it?" + +"I suppose we've got to do it some time," Cumshaw said slowly. "We might +as well do it first as last. What do you say, Miss Drummond?" + +"Ye-es," said Moira in a half-whisper. "Ye-es, I suppose we had better." + +"And you, Carstairs?" + +"Nothing venture, nothing win," I quoted gaily. "Anyway it's my +suggestion, and I'm not going to fall down on it. I didn't bring the +spade along just for the fun of carrying it." + +"Go on then," Cumshaw said. + +Then commenced the operation of locating the position of the treasure. +As the one most used to such things I snapped open my pocket-compass, +took a line from the mouldering ruin that had once been the threshold of +the hut, and proceeded to calmly measure off the requisite distance. The +others followed my movements with breathless interest; Cumshaw's cheeks +were still pale, partly from the stress of emotion and partly, I fancy, +because he feared that, even at the last, Fate would play a trick on us +and bring the work of two generations to nothing. Two little red spots +glowed in Moira's cheeks, and in her eyes was an opalescent glow that +spoke of suppressed excitement. I wasn't so carried away by my feelings +as the others were--I had been trained in a rough school, and my +training had taught me at all times to keep an adequate control over my +emotions--but the romance of the adventure and the excitement of the +game had penetrated even my thick skin, and the mere fact that others +hung breathlessly on my movements swayed me a little from the normal. +That streak of vanity which is in all of us came to the surface, as it +does with the best of men at the best of times. + +I didn't see how I could possibly make a mistake, and the only thing +that troubled me was the likelihood of some stray prospector having +stumbled on the hoard by accident. At last I reached the spot where the +north line ended, and then calmly and methodically I took off my coat, +folded it, and laid it on the ground. I rolled up my shirt sleeves and +seized the spade in my hands. The others watched me with apprehensive +eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE ADVENTURE CLOSES. + + +I could hear Moira's quick breaths come and go as I worked, and with +each shovelful of soil I turned Cumshaw craned his head a little further +forward. + +"Three foot, maybe three foot six," Cumshaw said once, in a voice that +was curiously hoarse. The remark puzzled me for a moment, and then in a +flash I recollected that his father had told Bryce that the hole where +the gold was buried would be three feet or three feet six deep at a +guess. + +I went on digging. The hole deepened and widened, and still nothing +appeared. I paused in my work and flung the damp perspiration from my +forehead with a grimy hand. I had been working eagerly, excitedly. + +"I'll take a hand now," Cumshaw offered with surprising alacrity. + +I shook my head and stabbed the spade further into the earth. It struck +something soft which yet offered a remarkable resistance to the progress +of the instrument. And then in an instant I was down on my knees, the +steaming sting of my perspiring face all forgotten in the wild intense +eagerness of my discovery. I flung the spade about like a mad-man, and +my breath came and went through my teeth with a hissing sound like that +of escaping steam. I was mud and muck from head to foot and my hands +were caked with clay, but that did not matter. Nothing mattered save the +one startling fact that I had struck something that answered to the +description of the stuff we were seeking. At last, after seemingly +eternal hours of incredible toil, though in reality it couldn't have +been more than a few seconds, the earth came away, and my spade lay bare +four bags of mouldering leather--four torn and decaying things through +which came the dull golden gleam of minted metal. With a smothered cry +Cumshaw threw himself on the saddle-bags and hugged and clawed them like +a man gone demented. For the moment there came a curious vulpine look +into his face, and then it passed so swiftly that I could have fancied +that it had never been there or anywhere else save in my imagination. + +"We've found it at last," I said, and was surprised to find how thin my +voice had become. It was the first rational word since I had begun to +dig, and it acted on Cumshaw like a douche of cold water. He dropped the +bags as if he had been stung, and climbed out of the hole rather +shamefacedly. + +Moira opened her mouth as if to speak and then shut it again. Ludicrous +as it all looked, it was sufficient to show me just how unbalanced sane +people can become at the sight of gold. The three of us looked at each +other, and then I fancy we all laughed, albeit a little hysterically. + +The rest is soon told. We got the rotting bags out somehow, and portion +of their contents spilled out on the ground, though we didn't mind that +at the time. There was more money in each of the bags than any one of us +had ever handled before. In the light of what happened afterwards I'm +positive that it was Cumshaw who suggested filling up the hole. + +"A good idea," I thought. A gaping hole in the ground might attract the +attention of strangers and lead to further enquiries--the kind of +enquiries that would not be welcomed by us. I had thrown all but the +last shovelful in when Cumshaw drew something from his pocket, looked at +it a moment, and then, with a muttered exclamation, threw it into the +hole and trod it deep into the earth. I got but the one look at it, and +it seemed to me to be an ordinary leather-covered pocket-book. I was on +the point of asking him the meaning of his action when I chanced to +glance up at his face, and what I saw there made me shut my lips down +like a steel trap. I said nothing, and beyond my first natural start of +surprise I don't think I gave myself away at all. + + * * * * * + +It doesn't matter just how much we made out of it. If I were to write +down the exact figures no one would believe them or me; but when I say +that neither Cumshaw nor I--for Moira pooled her share with mine after +all--will have to do a hand's turn again as long as we live, some idea +can be gained of what was in those four decaying saddle-bags. To place +gold, more especially minted coin, in circulation in this year of grace +one thousand nine hundred and twenty requires more ingenuity than most +men are possessed of, and frankly I could see no way out of it for many +a long day. But in the end I struck an unexpected solution. What that +solution was is neither here nor there: the expedients I resorted to +would, if written down, fill a longer and perhaps a more exciting volume +than this. Some day, when old age is creeping on me and the good opinion +of my neighbours has almost ceased to matter, I may tell the tale in its +entirety. + +As we had no desire to attract more attention than we could help we did +not attempt to take the gold along with us. Instead we buried it in a +secluded spot not far from the railway, and a week or so later Cumshaw +and I returned in the car for it. + + * * * * * + +"I wonder," I said, "how those chaps managed to find out so much about +everything? Of course they were paralleling Bryce's investigations, but +that doesn't explain all; they knew more about some things than he did +himself." + +We were sitting round the fire one evening a month or so later. Moira +and I had just returned from our honeymoon, and Cumshaw had dropped in +with the news that his father was in the hands of a noted alienist who +hoped in time to completely cure the old man. The announcement had set +us talking about our recent experiences, and _apropos_ of them I had +uttered the above remark. + +"I've often wondered," Moira said, "how they first learnt about the +treasure." + +There was silence for a space and then Cumshaw spoke. "I rather fancy," +he said, "that they knew about its existence long before Mr. Bryce did." + +Moira shot a startled glance at him and I said, "Whatever do you mean?" + +"You remember that pocket-book I threw into the trench the day we found +the treasure?" + +I nodded. "Yes," said Moira breathlessly. + +"I found that in the grass early in the morning before I went up to the +cave. It was a diary belonging to a man named Alick Blane. I didn't read +it right through--I didn't have the time for one thing--but what I did +see told me all I wanted to know. I buried it in the trench because I +did not want what was written in the book to be published to the world. +It was one of those things that are better kept out of sight and +circulation." + +"But what was it?" I queried. + +He looked at us a moment as if debating with himself whether or not to +tell us. + +"Alick Blane's father was the trooper who shot Bradby," he said, and +left us to imagine all the rest. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Valley, by J. M. 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