Martin sat behind the counter, and he seemed to be immersed in
the contents of a newspaper which was spread open before him. Going up
to my room, I put on a pair of puttees--which, although useless and
indeed injurious for general wear, are ideal for traversing
bramble-land--took my thick stick, and further looked to the condition
and readiness of my pistol. Finally, slipping an electric torch into
my pocket, I set out.
The bar was closing when I came downstairs. Martin stared at me dully.
"I'm going for a moonlight ramble," I explained. "Will any one be up
to let me in or should you prefer to give me the key of the side
door?"
"Never locked," was the laconic reply; "come in when you like."
To a town-dweller, such a piece of information must have sounded
alarming, but knowing something of the ways of these country
communities, it did not greatly surprise me; and bidding the landlord
"good night," I set out.
The false move made by Dr. Damar Greefe had advanced the inquiry
further than any unaided endeavors of mine could well have done.
Clearly enough, the Eurasian regarded my presence as inimical to his
safety. In admitting so much he had admitted guilt of some kind. In
fact I felt assured that he was determined at all costs to prevent my
visiting Friar's Park.
Having failed in his unmistakable endeavor to remove me entirely--for
so I construed the Nubian's instructions--he would undoubtedly
recognize that the game was up.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173