IT WAS the belief of Saxe and his friends that the person guilty of the outrage against them was none other than Hartley Masters. Now, at last, Roy confided to his associates the adventure in the night, when he had discovered the presence of the safe hidden within the wall. The others flouted him as he had anticipated over his failure to capture the intruder and his subsequent inability to learn the secret of the spring in the wainscoting. They accepted without hesitation his assurance that the night prowler had been Masters, and their wrath flamed hot against the engineer, who in his later effort had not scrupled to attempt the murder of five men. They determined to take active measures against the fellow for the sake of their own safety. Roy volunteered to wage a campaign against the enemy, to seek out his whereabouts, to trail him, to get evidence against him, and finally to make him prisoner. The others, meantime, would continue[204] their quest for further clues to the treasure. First of all, they busied themselves with hunting for the concealed safe, after its exact situation had been indicated by Roy, and three days passed in fruitless experimenting on the intricacies of the carved wainscoting. Roy visited the hamlet at the foot of the lake, where was situated the hotel in which the engineer had been a guest. He learned, to his disappointment, that Masters had taken his departure a week before. He assured himself that this departure had been a real one by inquiries at the station. Further questioning of residents elicited the information that the engineer had thereafter been seen by none. Nevertheless, Roy was far from being convinced by this information that the engineer had actually taken himself off. He was, on the contrary, almost, if not quite, certain that Masters had merely made use of the train for an ostensible departure, in order to avoid the possibility of his presence in the neighborhood appearing as evidence against him in the event of any suspicion that might arise. Afterward, as Roy[205] imagined, he had returned to some out-of-the-way place in the forest, where he could eat and sleep unmolested, and thence spy out the land for the execution of his villainous projects. Doubtless in his employment as an engineer, he had often lived roughly, and the season of the year would make life in the open no hardship. Roy, therefore, set himself to a search of the countryside, hoping somewhere to chance on a trace of the enemy’s camp. In this, he was unsuccessful. After two days of weary tramping, it occurred to him that he could serve his purpose equally well by strolling in pleasant paths with May Thurston at his side.
This improved method was adopted. Roy told the girl nothing as to his desire of finding Masters, but he told her other things a-plenty; and the two of them grew daily more content.
It was Margaret West who finally hit on the spring that moved the wainscoting, for Saxe had let her know the story told by Roy, and she had amused herself by seeking to master the mystery. Actually, beyond her satisfaction in having succeeded where the[206] others had failed, nothing was accomplished, since the vault was empty, and no hint as to the disposal of the gold could be gleaned from its bareness. Yet, new knowledge of the secret was soon to come.
Billy Walker’s pride of intellect had been aroused to the utmost by the difficulty of the task that confronted him. Hour after hour, day after day, he pored over the manuscript, of which the cryptic significance ever escaped all efforts of his ingenuity. It seemed to him that he had, in fact, scrutinized every possible aspect in which the writing might be viewed, and still the veil lay impenetrable over the mystery. He would have been in despair, had he been of a humbler mind, but his intellectual egotism would not suffer him to confess defeat, even to himself. So, he persisted in the struggle to solve this baffling problem—did indeed but strive the harder as the days passed. The others admitted that the difficulties were too great for their overcoming. Billy replied to their lamentations with braggart boasting that he would yet conquer. Nevertheless, at the last, he owed the hint he needed to Saxe.
[207]The four men were lounging on the porch of a morning. The languor of summer had grown within a few days, and the four were taking their ease. Billy Walker was crouched in the deeps of a huge chair; David sprawled on a heap of cushions; Roy stretched lazily in a hammock, reminiscent of long siestas in the southland. Saxe alone showed any evidence of alertness. He sat erect at the head of the steps, with the manuscript of the gold song lying on his knees. Ostensibly, his attention was fixed on the music. From time to time, he jabbed the score impatiently with a pencil point. But often, he shot glances of longing toward the stairway, by which, sooner or later, Margaret West must descend. Silence had fallen on the group. A sense of discouragement was in the air. The only sounds were the gossiping of the English sparrows about the eaves, the faint rustling of leaves when the breeze stirred them, the distressful grunt that accompanied any change of position by Billy Walker, the whish of a match as someone lighted a fresh cigarette.
The real activity was on the part of Billy,[208] whose mind, while his body lolled, was nimbly busy over the miser’s manuscript, which his imagination held visible before him. Then, presently, he craved the stimulus of a sight of the actual. He hoisted his cumbersome bulk out of the chair, and went stiffly across the veranda to where Saxe sat with the music. There, he stood for a minute looking down at the notes. His beetling brows were lowering, a low rumble of displeasure came from his heavy lips, he thrust a hand vehemently through the rough shock of hair, his small eyes, with the whites tainted by jaundice, fairly glared down at the elusive script wherein lay knowledge of Abernethey’s gold.
Of a sudden, wonder grew on his face. Doubt, fear, hope, joy, followed. He bent awkwardly, but swiftly, snatched the paper, and immediately stalked off into the cottage and up the stairs to his bedroom, without a word of explanation or apology. Saxe shrugged his shoulders, and smiled whimsically. The others paid no attention whatsoever.
It was a half-hour later when Billy[209] returned to the porch. His manner was wholly changed. He was radiant with a supreme triumph of pride. The others did not look up, as he again seated himself in the easy chair. But the man was so surcharged with exultation that his mood sent its challenges vibrant to their souls. Presently, one turned to stare at him, and then another, and then the third. He met their gaze with eyes that were aglow, and a smile of delight bent the coarse lips. He nodded slowly, as in answer to their mute questioning, and spoke:
“Well, my dilatory friends,” he began genially, “your confidence in me, which has enabled you to retain your calm while yourselves accomplishing nothing, was not misplaced. After a considerable period of unremitting toil over the manuscript left for our guidance by the ingenious deceased—by the way, Saxe, that song of gold, as you call it, is perfectly good music, isn’t it?”
The three were gazing on Billy Walker with wide eyes. Their astonishment was so great that, for the moment, they did not question the leisurely manner of the sage’s[210] introduction. Instead, Saxe answered the seemingly irrelevant interrogation obediently.
“It’s perfectly good music—in the sense you mean—yes.”
“Then,” Billy declared, “I take off my hat to the late Mr. Abernethey. The reason for this burst of enthusiasm on my part lies in the fact that out of a perfectly good piece of music, he has made, also, a perfectly good chart—for our guidance to the treasure. As to the chart, I myself speak as an authority, since I have found it.” Billy regarded his friends with an expression of intense self-satisfaction.
Roy was sitting up in the hammock now, with his jaw thrust forward a little, and his eyes hard in the excitement of the minute. D............