The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
the stuff that rings true does Robert Service."
"If you would wish in time for lunch to be, sah, I would suggest ascension of automobile."
The driver's voice, ingratiating, conciliatory, cut in on them, and Jim laughed.
"Marching orders, Judy. His goal is a stomach filled with garlic."
But they were both strangely silent as they drove back.
It was during the afternoon of the last day that they discovered that their hopes of a clear week on the island were not likely to be realised. Bill Blackett, who had spent the morning urging on the work on the boat, arrived when they were half-way through lunch.
"We'll get off to-morrow," he announced, "and its just as well we should."
"Anything happened, Bill?" said the other.
"It may be nothing. Have you ever heard of Bully McIntyre?"
"Can't say I have," said Jim.
"Well, he's heard of you. And he knows you're here. Bully McIntyre has been busy all his life on this coast, and his name is about right. He holds a master's ticket, and there is no denying he's a good seaman. But he's a swine. He doesn't know me, but I once had him pointed out to me, and he's not a man you'll forget in a hurry. Anyway he was down there near the docks this morning having a drink with a couple of dagos. And I suddenly heard your name mentioned. So I shifted along a bit and listened as well as I could. I couldn't hear much, but I distinctly caught the word 'Delay.' It may mean nothing, but I thought I'd better mention it."
"Quite right, Bill," said Jim thoughtfully. "When is the next boat in from England?"
"Day after to-morrow," answered the other. "If they come by her, it only gives us one day's start."
"Is this fellow McIntyre the sort of man they might get hold of to run the show for them?"
"Just the sort," said the sailor. "He fears nothing on earth, and he knows this coast backwards. I'll make a few enquiries this afternoon, and find out if he's chartered anything."
"Do," said Jim. "And another thing, too. Put the men, who are working on the boat, wise to the possibility that she may be tampered with, and let them know that whatever the cause may be there's no money unless she's fit to put to sea."
"What are you doing for the rest of the day?"
"I'm going to finish up the grub side. Ordering enough for a fortnight."
"Well, I needn't tell you to keep your eyes skinned," grunted the sailor. "But I'll feel easier when we're away."
"But what could they do?" asked Judy Draycott.
"This ain't London, Miss," said Blackett. "A powerful lot of funny things can happen in these parts. Well, I'll go and find out what I can."
He stumped out of the dining-room, and Jim frowned thoughtfully.
"I always thought Dresler must have someone at this end," he said. "But I wonder how they've got on to me. However there's nothing for it but to keep one's eyes skinned, as Bill said. No trotting round by yourself, young Percy. If they know me, they probably know you. So you stick close to uncle this afternoon."
It was on the way back from the store where they had laid in provisions, that the incident occurred which made Jim realise that there were brains in the opposition. A crude attempt with a knife would not have surprised him, and it was for something of that sort that he was prepared. But the actual ruse when it came was so much more artistic that even he was very nearly caught.
Percy was on the outside of the pavement, with Judy in the middle. And they were just turning into the main boulevard when a girl brushed past them. As she came abreast she seemed to lurch against Percy, and, promptly, with a cry of pain, she collapsed into the gutter. He instinctively turned to help her, and the next moment he found himself almost flung into a passing taxi by Jim.
"Damn it all, old lad," he expostulated feebly as the car drove off, "the wretched filly has hurt herself."
"Sorry, Judy," said Jim as she stared at him in amazement. "They very nearly had me that time. Of course, the whole thing was done on purpose. The girl wasn't hurt at all."
"Even so," remarked Percy, "I don't see why I shouldn't have helped the little darling out of the gutter. She was rather a peach."
"Because then she would have pretended to be hurt. She would have sworn you banged into her and knocked her down. Within two minutes in this town an ambulance would have been on the spot. And if you'd been with her then, you'd have been involved in all sorts of complications. Never touch anybody who has had an accident here: leave them alone, and wait for an ambulance."
"You think the whole thing was done on purpose?" cried Judy.
"I do," said Jim. "Just to cause delay. Percy might have found himself tied up in formalities for days."
They found Blackett waiting for them at the hotel, with a serious look on his face.
"I've found out a good deal," he said gravely. "And we've got to get a move on. You remember that white yacht we noticed as we came in, lying at anchor not far from the old cruiser? Well—that's what we're up against. She belongs to a millionaire here called Miguel, and Bully is getting her ready for sea by the day after to-morrow."
"That means they are coming by the next mail boat," remarked Jim. "A pity: I'd hoped for a bit longer. How's our work going?"
"Practically finished. Get off early to-morrow if the food is all fixed up."
"That's done. Who is this man Miguel, Bill?"
"He rolls in money, and nobody seems to know how he made it. Of course, the whole thing may be a coincidence, but I don't think so."
"No more do I," said Jim grimly, staring at a card a page had just handed him.
DON SILVESTRE MIGUEL
"Here is the gentleman himself."
A swarthy-looking individual, who might have stepped straight off the operatic stage had followed hard on the boy's heels. He bowed magnificently to Judy: then, turning to Jim, he enquired: "Mr. Maitland?"
"My name is Maitland," said Jim curtly.
"It is an honour, Mr. Maitland, to have you again in our country," he declared. "May I be permitted to crave an introduction to your friends?"
Jim complied, even more curtly. Then——
"May I ask to what I owe the pleasure of this visit, Don Miguel?"
"A desire for a little private conversation with you, Mr. Maitland. Could we, perhaps..."
He glanced at the others significantly, and Jim turned to the girl.
"I shan't be long, Judy. Do you mind waiting here with Percy? Don't leave the hotel. Come this way, Don Miguel."
He led him to two chairs in the corner of the lounge.
"It would be waste of time, Mr. Maitland," began the Brazilian, "to pretend that I do not know the object of your visit here. And it is on that subject that I would like a few words with you."
"May I ask how you discovered the supposed object of my visit?"
"Certainly: I propose to put all my cards on the table. Some few months ago it came to my knowledge from a source which I considered reliable, that there was a more reasonable likelihood of the story of the buried treasure in Lone Tree Island being correct. Since you, of course, must know the story I need say no more. I was sufficiently interested to make further enquiries, and what I learned confirmed my opinion. A map was in existence, which was in the possession of a sailor who was rapidly drinking himself to death, and I determined to obtain that map. Then an unexpected thing happened, with the details of which I will not bore you. But to cut a long story short the sailor disappeared. He was in Bahia: then suddenly he vanished.
"I made enquiries, and after a great deal of trouble I traced him to Buenos Aires. There again I lost the trail for a while,