The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
to him for his information."
"No trouble, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"If you don't mind waiting a little longer, Mr. Robinson, I hope to be able to show you a map of it. And I should very much like your confirmation that it is the island we've been talking about. Monty, my dear fellow, our friend is probably a little thirsty after all his talking. I have no doubt there is some whiskey in the kitchen."
"Well," he continued, as the baronet returned a few moments later, "the matter becomes increasingly intriguing. 'Things that were never made of 'uman parents: 'orrors.'"
"Do you believe the man, Emil?"
The dwarf shrugged his shoulders.
"Those who go down to the sea in ships are proverbially spinners of tall yarns," he said. "There may be some substratum of truth in it, which has been exaggerated into what we've just been told. And, anyway, I have yet to find the being, whether made by human parents or not, who is proof against a high-velocity rifle."
Sir Montague Barnet started to pace to and fro.
"I wish we knew for certain if it was worth going on with it," he said.
The dwarf smiled contemptuously.
"Life would be a pretty tedious affair," he remarked, "if one always knew for certain. You know the enquiries we've made: you know our sources of information. And even if it should prove to be wrong—what is the cost? A few hundred pounds—a thousand at the most. Which sum, Monty, I am finding, do not forget."
The door was flung open and Waterlow put his head in.
"Car coming up the drive," he said. "Everything is ready."
"Listen, Waterlow," said Dresler quietly. "If it is humanly possible, we do not want the girl to suspect anything. It will save us an infinity of trouble if she doesn't. And so, as soon as she has handed it over, get it down to this room somehow. A minute will be enough for Monty to take a tracing. Then if she wants it—she can have it back."
"I get you," answered the other going into the hall and closing the door.
The car had pulled up at the door, and contrary to the usual custom the driver seemed to be trying to find out how much noise he could make with his engine. He accelerated in bursts, until Barnet swore angrily under his breath.
"He'll wake the whole damned neighbourhood—that fool of a chauffeur," he muttered.
But the chauffeur seemed quite oblivious of his unpopularity: at intervals he raced his engine with an ear-splitting roar—so ear-splitting in fact, that even the blind man's supersensitive hearing was of no avail for any other sound, such as a man might make as he cautiously opened the window a little more and a little more each time. And with the final, full-throttled burst Jim Maitland, who had been reconnoitring the house for the last twenty minutes, found himself with only a blind barring his way to the room. Then silence fell, broken only by Waterlow's voice.
"Really, Miss Draycott, your chauffeur might remember that this is a nursing home."
"So sorry, Doctor Phillips," came her apologetic reply, "but the car is not going very well. That's why I'm so late. How is Arthur?"
A look of relief spread over Barnet's face: evidently she suspected nothing.
"Better now, Miss Draycott. He was very worried and upset this morning after you left but I succeeded in pacifying him. I trust there is no mistake this time, and that you have brought it with you."
"Of course, Doctor, and I shall never forgive myself for being so stupid this morning."
Their voices died away as they mounted the stairs, and the dwarf smiled easily.
"It marches well, Monty," he said. "She would appear to be eating out of our hands. Now get that sailor in."
The blind stirred slightly as the door opened—a natural phenomenon in the faint night breeze—and Jim Maitland's keen eye took in every detail of the room. From above him came the sound of the girl's voice: evidently the interview with the supposed brother had commenced.
He drew back a little as Barnet returned, accompanied by Robinson, though he could still see the whole of the room.
"Now, Mr. Robinson," said the blind man, "we shan't detain you much longer. May I take it that you would recognise a map of the island if you saw one?"
"Well, I ain't much of a hand at maps, gentlemen, but I'll 'ave a shot at it."
"No one can do more," said Dresler genially as the door opened and Waterlow came in.
"Here it is," he said hurriedly. "And get a move on. She knows all about everything, and wants to see the other half."
"Does she suspect about her brother?" asked the dwarf.
"Doesn't seem to. She's chatting away quite cheerfully."
"Right. Go back. And the sooner you get her away the better. Now, Mr. Robinson," he continued, as the door closed, "perhaps you would have a look."
"We've got it, Emil," said Barnet triumphantly. "The two pieces fit perfectly. Now is that the island?"
He laid them on the table, and the sailor bent over them.
"Aye," he said, "that looks like the place. Ancorage: that's right. That's where we lay: south of the island. And all the eastern part is swampy. Crocks—why, that river is full of them, and other things too."
"Good!" cried Barnet, rapidly adjusting a piece of tracing paper. "Emil—we've got the map complete except for that torn-off bit in the bottom left-hand corner."
"Does it give the location of what we want?" asked the dwarf.
"Yes," said the other laconically. "I'll work that out later."
For a moment Jim hesitated. To knock out Barnet and snatch the map would be easy—a matter of seconds. But he would certainly be recognised, and—what was even more important—Judy Draycott was not yet safely away. He craned forward trying to see, but the baronet's back was between him and the map. And he was on the point of chancing it when once more Waterlow came in.
"She's getting suspicious," he said hurriedly. "Wants to see the other bit. Is it safe?"
"Yes," answered the dwarf quietly. "It's the lesser of two evils. Well, Mr. Robinson, I don't think we need detain you any more. Good night, and I'm much obliged to you. Waterlow—show him out. Now, Monty," he went on as the door closed, "have you got that tracing finished?"
"Just finished now," said the other.
"And you have a copy of our half? Good. Put the tracing in your pocket, and we'll have the girl in. You're another doctor, don't forget. And don't get near her: you reek of whiskey even at this range."
There was the sound of voices coming down the stairs, then Judy came in followed by Waterlow.
"Here is Miss Draycott, Professor," he announced.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Draycott," said the dwarf courteously. "May I introduce my other colleague, Doctor Arbuthnot."
Barnet bowed.
"Your brother is, I think, as well as can be expected under the circumstances," went on Dresler. "It is indeed fortunate that the accident should have taken place so close to my nursing home."
"Very fortunate indeed," said the girl, quietly. "And I am most grateful to you for all your kindness."
"My dear young lady"—the dwarf lifted a deprecating hand—"that is what we are here for. And now that you have brought him the other half of his map, his mind will be at rest."
"Is that it on the table?" she asked innocently. "What is it all about?"
She crossed over and looked at it.
"It all seems nonsense to me."