The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
fear you're quite right," said the dwarf. "It is nonsense. But so long as he is in his present state he must be humoured."
"He keeps on talking about hidden treasure," she went on. "Where is this supposed to be?"
"I've got no idea," said the dwarf. "He tells me he got it from some sailor in South America. And I fear if the truth be known that it is like so many sailor's stories—complete imagination."
"You don't think this is a real island?" she asked.
"Frankly, Miss Draycott, I do not. And even if it is I'm afraid the chances of there being any treasure on it are remote. Other people would have heard of it long ago, and removed it."
"I suppose so," she said a little sadly. "And the poor boy does seem so keen about it too. However, I have promised him to do all I can, so I suppose I must. But it seems rather a waste of time."
"What are you doing, Miss Draycott?" cried Barnet, and Jim began to shake with silent laughter. For the girl was calmly folding up both parts of the map and putting them in her bag.
"He's just asked me to find out anything I could for him about it in London," she explained, and Jim shook still more. "When you were out of the room, Doctor Phillips. He seemed so keen that I don't like to disappoint him. So I'll just pretend."
Barnet and Waterlow were staring at her in perplexity: their dilemma was clear to the delighted witness outside the window. They both knew that the girl was lying. But they couldn't say so, without giving themselves away. And it was the dwarf who took charge of the situation.
"Quite right, Miss Draycott," he said calmly. "Do anything that will keep his mind at rest. Humour him in every way. And when shall we be seeing you again?"
"To-morrow, I think, or perhaps the next day," she answered, rising to her feet. "Good night, Professor. Thank you again for all you've done for Arthur."
"It is a pleasure, my dear young lady. Good night."
"Well, I'm damned," said Barnet, as the door closed. "Why did you let her get away with it, Emil?"
"At times, my friend, I despair of your brain. What else was there to do?"
"But don't you see," fumed the other, "that it is proof positive that she suspects. Johnston never said that to her: she was lying."
From outside came the noise of a self-starter—a splutter, a roar—and as the car swung down the drive Waterlow re-entered.
"The fact had not escaped me," said the dwarf languidly. "Though there is a bare possibility that she herself suggested it to Johnston, and he perforce had to agree."
"That is soon settled," cried Waterlow going into the hall. "Johnston—come down here."
A man of about thirty entered mopping his face.
"Those cursed bandages are the limit on a hot night," he remarked.
"Did that girl make any remark to you about taking the map up to London with her?" said the dwarf.
"Yes. Seemed dead set on it. I didn't know what to say so I left it vague."
"Do you think she suspected you?"
"Didn't seem to. She called me Arthur and patted my hands."
"You see, Monty," said the dwarf quietly, "it was far better to let her take them. What harm can she do? What is the good of that map to anyone unless they know where the island is? And what chance has she got of finding anyone who would be able to tell her? Unless..."
He broke off, and sat brooding.
"Unless what?"
"For the moment I thought of Maitland," remarked the dwarf.
"I wish we'd done the damned fellow in that night," said Barnet savagely. "He knows every inch of South America."
"Hardly that, my dear Monty, though I admit I should feel happier if he was out of the way. And you must remember two things. One—we don't know that he knows the girl: and two—even if he does, it is very improbable that he knows where the island is. Still, I admit Maitland is a distinct problem, and one that we may have to solve. However, that can wait. The immediate thing is to clear out of here at once. Order my car round, Johnston, and shut this place up. I fear if the lady comes here again she will have a slight shock."
Noiselessly Jim backed away from the window, and keeping on the grass he went down the drive at a steady lope. There was nothing further to be learned, and things had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations, entirely owing to the girl. He had complete faith in his ability to spot where the island was: there were many old pals of his down in Dockland who knew the coast of South America as they did the palms of their hands.
And then suddenly out of the darkness there loomed an immediate solution to the problem—to wit, Mr. Robinson stumping along the road. He could give him the information he needed, but speed was imperative since at any moment the dwarf's car might be on them. Percy was waiting for him a little way ahead, but he wanted no chance of being overtaken.
"Good evening, Mr. Robinson," he said as he came abreast.
"'Oo the 'ell are you?" was the uncompromising answer.
"Someone who is proposing to give you a fiver if you'll run," said Jim with a laugh.
A stationary red light had just come in sight in front of them.
"Run as far as that light with me, Robinson, and I'll give you a lift to London as well, in exchange for a little information," continued Jim.
"Gaw lumme! Fivers seem easy to-night."
He pounded along beside Jim, until they reached the car.
"My friend, Mr. Robinson," cried Jim, "who is coming back to Town with us. Hop in in front, my lad, and Percy, tread on the juice."
He sank down beside the girl in the back seat, and as the car gathered speed he could just see the exquisite profile so close to him.
"Well done," he said quietly. "Well done, indeed."
She made no reply; and merely stared in front of her.
"Miss Draycott! Judy! what's the matter?" he asked gently. "A penny."
She gave a little sigh that was half a sob.
"It's Arthur," she said. "I've had time to think; that's all."
And now the tears were coming unchecked.
"Killed by those brutes the very day he returned. It's wicked. I want them to be punished; I want someone hanged."
A sudden feeling of guilt assailed him: he had actually forgotten all about her brother.
"Listen, Judy," he said gravely, "while I say my little bit. I know exactly how you're feeling: it's only natural. And perhaps I was wrong in not calling in the police at once. But I happen to be one of those blokes that don't instinctively go for the police if anything happens: I suppose I've lived too much in places where there aren't any to go for. And it was the extraordinary coincidence of the whole thing that struck me, coming as it did just after I'd left you. The dago, your story about the treasure, everything combined to make me hesitate. And then, as you know, I was outed and it was too late. But what I'm getting at is that now I am glad I acted as I did. Honestly I believe that there is something in this yarn, and the best way of revenging your brother's death is to do those swine down."
The girl did not answer, and gradually her tears ceased. And then somehow it came about that her left hand fell off her lap and encountered Jim's right. Which, of course, was purely accidental, and may be treated as an irrelevant and extraneous detail. Almost as irrelevant in fact as three remarks which were made five minutes later.
"Percy, you blighter, this isn't Brooklands. Ease up, confound you."
And the voice was male.
"Ever so much slower, Percy dear. I'm being blown to bits."
And the voice was female.