CHAPTER XX. TOO LATE

IN the street they held an informal council of war. Sir James had drawn

a watch from his pocket. “The boat train to Holyhead stops at Chester at

12.14. If you start at once I think you can catch the connection.”

Tommy looked up, puzzled.

“Is there any need to hurry, sir? To-day is only the 24th.”

“I guess it’s always well to get up early in the morning,” said Julius,

before the lawyer had time to reply. “We’ll make tracks for the depot

right away.”

A little frown had settled on Sir James’s brow.

“I wish I could come with you. I am due to speak at a meeting at two

o’clock. It is unfortunate.”

The reluctance in his tone was very evident. It was clear, on the other

hand, that Julius was easily disposed to put up with the loss of the

other’s company.

“I guess there’s nothing complicated about this deal,” he remarked.

“Just a game of hide-and-seek, that’s all.”

“I hope so,” said Sir James.

“Sure thing. What else could it be?”

“You are still young, Mr. Hersheimmer. At my age you will probably have

learnt one lesson. ‘Never underestimate your adversary.’”

The gravity of his tone impressed Tommy, but had little effect upon

Julius.

“You think Mr. Brown might come along and take a hand? If he does, I’m

ready for him.” He slapped his pocket. “I carry a gun. Little Willie

here travels round with me everywhere.” He produced a murderous-looking

automatic, and tapped it affectionately before returning it to its

home. “But he won’t be needed this trip. There’s nobody to put Mr. Brown

wise.”

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.

“There was nobody to put Mr. Brown wise to the fact that Mrs. Vandemeyer

meant to betray him. Nevertheless, _Mrs. Vandemeyer died without

speaking_.”

Julius was silenced for once, and Sir James added on a lighter note:

“I only want to put you on your guard. Good-bye, and good luck. Take

no unnecessary risks once the papers are in your hands. If there is any

reason to believe that you have been shadowed, destroy them at once.

Good luck to you. The game is in your hands now.” He shook hands with

them both.

Ten minutes later the two young men were seated in a first-class

carriage _en route_ for Chester.

For a long time neither of them spoke. When at length Julius broke the

silence, it was with a totally unexpected remark.

“Say,” he observed thoughtfully, “did you ever make a darned fool of

yourself over a girl’s face?”

Tommy, after a moment’s astonishment, searched his mind.

“Can’t say I have,” he replied at last. “Not that I can recollect,

anyhow. Why?”

“Because for the last two months I’ve been making a sentimental idiot of

myself over Jane! First moment I clapped eyes on her photograph my heart

did all the usual stunts you read about in novels. I guess I’m ashamed

to admit it, but I came over here determined to find her and fix it all

up, and take her back as Mrs. Julius P. Hersheimmer!”

“Oh!” said Tommy, amazed.

Julius uncrossed his legs brusquely and continued:

“Just shows what an almighty fool a man can make of himself! One look at

the girl in the flesh, and I was cured!”

Feeling more tongue-tied than ever, Tommy ejaculated “Oh!” again.

“No disparagement to Jane, mind you,” continued the other. “She’s a real

nice girl, and some fellow will fall in love with her right away.”

“I thought her a very good-looking girl,” said Tommy, finding his

tongue.

“Sure she is. But she’s not like her photo one bit. At least I suppose

she is in a way--must be--because I recognized her right off. If I’d

seen her in a crowd I’d have said ‘There’s a girl whose face I know’

right away without any hesitation. But there was something about that

photo”--Julius shook his head, and heaved a sigh--“I guess romance is a

mighty queer thing!”

“It must be,” said Tommy coldly, “if you can come over here in love with

one girl, and propose to another within a fortnight.”

Julius had the grace to look discomposed.

“Well, you see, I’d got a sort of tired feeling that I’d never find

Jane--and that it was all plumb foolishness anyway. And then--oh, well,

the French, for instance, are much more sensible in the way they look at

things. They keep romance and marriage apart----”

Tommy flushed.

“Well, I’m damned! If that’s----”

Julius hastened to interrupt.

“Say now, don’t be hasty. I don’t mean what you mean. I take it

Americans have a higher opinion of morality than you have even. What I

meant was that the French set about marriage in a businesslike way--find

two people who are suited to one another, look after the money affairs,

and see the whole thing practically, and in a businesslike spirit.”

“If you ask me,” said Tommy, “we’re all too damned businesslike

nowadays. We’re always saying, ‘Will it pay?’ The men are bad enough,

and the girls are worse!”

“Cool down, son. Don’t get so heated.”

“I feel heated,” said Tommy.

Julius looked at him and judged it wise to say no more.

However, Tommy had plenty of time to cool down before they reached

Holyhead, and the cheerful grin had returned to his countenance as they

alighted at their destination.

After consultation, and with the aid of a road map, they were fairly

well agreed as to direction, so were able to hire a taxi without more

ado and drive out on the road leading to Treaddur Bay. They instructed

the man to go slowly, and watched narrowly so as not to miss the path.

They came to it not long after leaving the town, and Tommy stopped the

car promptly, asked in a casual tone whether the path led down to the

sea, and hearing it did paid off the man in handsome style.

A moment later the taxi was slowly chugging back to Holyhead. Tommy and

Julius watched it out of sight, and then turned to the narrow path.

“It’s the right one, I suppose?” asked Tommy doubtfully. “There must be

simply heaps along here.”

“Sure it is. Look at the gorse. Remember what Jane said?”

Tommy looked at the swelling hedges of golden blossom which bordered the

path on either side, and was convinced.

They went down in single file, Julius leading. Twice Tommy turned his

head uneasily. Julius looked back.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got the wind up somehow. Keep fancying there’s some

one following us.”

“Can’t be,” said Julius positively. “We’d see him.”

Tommy had to admit that this was true. Nevertheless, his sense of

uneasiness deepened. In spite of himself he believed in the omniscience

of the enemy.

“I rather wish that fellow would come along,” said Julius. He patted his

pocket. “Little William here is just aching for exercise!”

“Do you always carry it--him--with you?” inquired Tommy with burning

curiosity.

“Most always. I guess you never know what might turn up.”

Tommy kept a respectful silence. He was impressed by little William. It

seemed to remove the menace of Mr. Brown farther away.

The path was now running along the side of the cliff, parallel to the

sea. Suddenly Julius came to such an abrupt halt that Tommy cannoned

into him.

“What’s up?” he inquired.

“Look there. If that doesn’t beat the band!”

Tommy looked. Standing out half obstructing the path was a huge boulder

which certainly bore a fanciful resemblance to a “begging” terrier.

“Well,” said Tommy, refusing to share Julius’s emotion, “it’s what we

expected to see, isn’t it?”

Julius looked at him sadly and shook his head.

“British phlegm! Sure we expected it--but it kind of rattles me, all the

same, to see it sitting there just where we expected to find it!”

Tommy, whose calm was, perhaps, more assumed than natural, moved his

feet impatiently.

“Push on. What about the hole?”

They scanned the cliff-side narrowly. Tommy heard himself saying

idiotically:

“The gorse won’t be there after all these years.”

And Julius replied solemnly:

“I guess you’re right.”

Tommy suddenly pointed with a shaking hand.

“What about that crevice there?”

Julius replied in an awestricken voice:

“That’s it--for sure.”

They looked at each other.

“When I was in France,” said Tommy reminiscently, “whenever my batman

failed to call me, he always said that he had come over queer. I never

believed it. But whether he felt it or not, there _is_ such a sensation.

I’ve got it now! Badly!”

He looked at the rock with a kind of agonized passion.

“Damn it!” he cried. “It’s impossible! Five years! Think of it!

Bird’s-nesting boys, picnic parties, thousands of people passing! It

can’t be there! It’s a hundred to one against its being there! It’s

against all reason!”

Indeed, he felt it to be impossible--more, perhaps, because he could not

believe in his own success where so many others had failed. The thing

was too easy, therefore it could not be. The hole would be empty.

Julius looked at him with a widening smile.

“I guess you’re rattled now all right,” he drawled with some enjoyment.

“Well, here goes!” He thrust his hand into the crevice, and made a

slight grimace. “It’s a tight fit. Jane’s hand must be a few sizes

smaller than mine. I don’t feel anything--no--say, what’s this? Gee

whiz!” And with a flourish he waved aloft a small discoloured packet.

“It’s the goods all right. Sewn up in oilskin. Hold it while I get my

penknife.”

The unbelievable had happened. Tommy held the precious packet tenderly

between his hands. They had succeeded!

“It’s queer,” he murmured idly, “you’d think the stitches would have

rotted. They look just as good as new.”

They cut them carefully and ripped away the oilskin. Inside was a small

folded sheet of paper. With trembling fingers they unfolded it. The

sheet was blank! They stared at each other, puzzled.

“A dummy?” hazarded Julius. “Was Danvers just a decoy?”

Tommy shook his head. That solution did not satisfy him. Suddenly his

face cleared.

“I’ve got it! _Sympathetic ink!_”

“You think so?”

“Worth trying anyhow. Heat usually does the trick. Get some sticks.

We’ll make a fire.”

In a few minutes the little fire of twigs and leaves was blazing

merrily. Tommy held the sheet of paper near the glow. The paper curled a

little with the heat. Nothing more.

Suddenly Julius grasped his arm, and pointed to where characters were

appearing in a faint brown colour.

“Gee whiz! You’ve got it! Say, that idea of yours was great. It never

occurred to me.”

Tommy held the paper in position some minutes longer until he judged the

heat had done its work. Then he withdrew it. A moment later he uttered a

cry.

Across the sheet in neat brown printing ran the words: WITH THE

COMPLIMENTS OF MR. BROWN.