The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
on, Bill," put in Jim. "We mustn't fall into the error of taking your theory as a proven fact, you know. There are at least two others which would account for things. He might have lied when he said he couldn't swim, and in spite of our not seeing him, he may be on shore now. Or he might suddenly have been taken ill, dropped the plates, rushed to the side and fallen overboard."
"Come on, you lazy blighters: it's glorious in the water."
Judy's voice hailed them from outside.
"Avaunt, child," answered Percy. "A council of state is in session."
"Not a word to her, Percy," muttered Jim, "of this idea of Bill's," and his cousin nodded.
"Naturally not," he said, as the girl poked her head round the corner.
"What are you sitting in this frowsty hole for?" she demanded.
"We'll be along in a minute," said Jim. "We're just having a bit of a pow-wow. Now look here, you fellows," he continued as she disappeared, "I figure it out this way. Let us assume for the moment that you're correct, Bill. Let us assume that something made its way on board that was so terrifying to Lopez that he shot overboard. Now he was unarmed: moreover he was down here. So he was taken by surprise. But we know this something that we are assuming came on board, must have swum. Even if it had come in the dinghy it had to cover two hundred yards of open water. What chance then would it have had if there had been a look-out on deck with a rifle?"
"Not an earthly," agreed Percy, and Bill grunted assent.
"Now two facts stick out a yard," continued Jim. "The first is that under no conceivable circumstances must we run the slightest risk of Judy being put in the same position as Lopez."
He paused and a faint smile came to his lips.
"And the second?" demanded the sailor.
"The second, Bill, is that I am of an inordinately curious disposition. I just wouldn't sleep o' nights for the rest of my life if I didn't find out who rang that bell and why: what lies under the patch of scarlet hibiscus: and a lot of other things."
"You're mad and foolhardy, Mr. Maitland," said the sailor. "How do you propose to do it?"
"Go and have a look," answered Jim with a grin, "leaving you, Bill, armed with the express rifle on guard over Miss Draycott here. Percy can please himself. He can either stop here with you, or he can come with me."
"It's madness," said the sailor once again. "Utter madness."
"Can't help it, old lad: I've always been mad. Well, Percy, what about you? For the shore after lunch, or not?"
"You bet your life I'm for the shore," said his cousin. "But what exactly are you intending to do? Carry on from where we left off this morning?"
Jim shook his head.
"No," he answered. "We started off on a false trail there. I propose that we wander along the edge of the swamp, and see if we can't find some track that will lead us into the forest without the necessity of hacking our way through the undergrowth. We may fail: if so we can only return."
"And you'll be back before dark," said the sailor.
"That's the idea, Bill," agreed Jim.
"And supposing you're not," continued the other.
"Why then, Bill, we'll be back after dark," laughed Jim. "Cheer up, you old croaker: Percy will be there to look after me."
The sailor shrugged his shoulders.
"All right, Mr. Maitland. You're the captain of this outfit, and what you say goes. But I still think you're a damned fool who is asking for trouble. And if you get it don't blame me."
With which Parthian shot he stumped off to his cabin.
"I say, Jim, do you really think there is anything in his idea?" said Percy.
"That, old lad, is what we propose to find out," answered his cousin. "And in the meantime let's join Judy in the water."
Jim had chosen the edge of the swamp as the line of advance for two reasons. Firstly, it struck him that by sticking to the brown tracks which flanked the green patches they would get good going in the open: and secondly he hoped that if there were any paths leading into the forest they would find some of them there. He had not forgotten the things he had seen through the mist that morning, and he argued that they would probably have had some line of approach, since the only place they could have disappeared into was the forest itself.
At the same time he fully realised that if there were tracks, and Percy and he used them, their chances of an encounter would be much greater than if they tried to again force a way through the undergrowth. And he was under no delusions as to the possibility of danger. They would be tackling them on their own ground, and under the most unfavourable conditions, especially as Percy, though he had practised assiduously on the way out was still a positive menace with a revolver.
What he wanted to do if it proved feasible was to see one of them without being seen himself. Then they could arrive at a decision as to whether they would carry on or not.
"You see, old lad," he remarked to Percy, as they beached the dinghy and proceeded once more to climb the hill, "we know the forest is inhabited, possibly by the most harmless creatures in the world, possibly not. And in the latter event, treasure or no treasure, we hop it. There aren't enough of us for Judy to be safe. But if they're harmless it's a different matter altogether."
Away to the north a smudge of smoke lay low on the horizon, but the island itself seemed lifeless in the intense heat. They scanned the open ground, searching for Lopez: there was no sign of him. Nothing moved, nothing stirred: the only sound was the lazy beat of the surf. And with a final glance backwards at the motor-boat, and Bill sitting grimly in a deck chair with his rifle across his knees they began the descent to the swamp.
It was two o'clock which gave them a good four hours in which to explore and be clear of the forest before it was dark. What Jim had surmised proved correct: there was a fringe of firm soil skirting the edge of the undergrowth which gave them easy walking. In places it was several yards wide, in others only a few inches, and lapping it on the other side, save where branches of it forked out and meandered across the marsh, lay the deadly green slime.
They pushed on steadily but cautiously, and it soon became obvious to Jim that the track was often used. There were places where the vegetation had been deliberately forced back to give greater width. And it was in one such place that they came on their first clue. Up till then the ground had been as hard as a rock: here they suddenly came on a stretch of some ten yards where a stream oozed sluggishly over the path. It had practically dried up, leaving the soil soft and muddy, and for a while Jim stared at it, with his face growing more and more grave.
"Look at the footprints, Percy," he said at length. "Poor devil."
His cousin looked at him sharply.
"What do you mean by 'poor devil'?" he asked.
But Jim did not reply: he was down on his knees studying the ground more closely. The marks were perfectly clear cut, and had obviously been made very recently. They were of two distinct sorts, and he examined them both in turn.
The first were those of a naked human foot. The imprints of the five toes were deep, and very wide apart: the mark of the heel was even deeper showing the great weight of its owner. But it was the size and the length of stride that staggered him. His own feet were not small, but he could comfortably have got both of them inside one of these. And the distance between them was over five feet.
The second were very different. They had been made by the toe of a pointed shoe, and the distance between them was four feet.
"So Bill was on the right track after all," he said straightening up. "Poor devil!"
"Look here," remarked Percy, "you might remember that I am not as well versed in reading mud as you. I assume you are alluding to Lopez, but you might explain your sympathy."
"You spot, don't you,"