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They went down in single file, Julius leading. Twice Tommy turned hishead uneasily. Julius looked back.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got the wind up somehow. Keep fancying there’s someone following us.”

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

Tommy had to admit that this was true. Nevertheless, his sense ofuneasiness deepened. In spite of himself he believed in the omniscienceof the enemy.

“I rather wish that fellow would come along,” said Julius. He patted hispocket. “Little William here is just aching for exercise!”

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

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

Tommy kept a respectful silence. He was impressed by little William. Itseemed to remove the menace of Mr. Brown farther away.

The path was now running along the side of the cliff, parallel to thesea. Suddenly Julius came to such an abrupt halt that Tommy cannonedinto 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 boulderwhich certainly bore a fanciful resemblance to a “begging” terrier.

“Well,” said Tommy, refusing to share Julius’s emotion, “it’s what weexpected 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 thesame, to see it sitting there just where we expected to find it!”

Tommy, whose calm was, perhaps, more assumed than natural, moved hisfeet impatiently.

“Push on. What about the hole?”

They scanned the cliff-side narrowly. Tommy heard himself sayingidiotically:

“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 batmanfailed to call me, he always said that he had come over queer. I neverbelieved 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! Itcan’t be there! It’s a hundred to one against its being there! It’sagainst all reason!”

Indeed, he felt it to be impossible--more, perhaps, because he could notbelieve in his own success where so many others had failed. The thingwas 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 aslight grimace. “It’s a tight fit. Jane’s hand must be a few sizessmaller than mine. I don’t feel anything--no--say, what’s this? Geewhiz!” 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 mypenknife.”

The unbelievable had happened. Tommy held the precious packet tenderlybetween his hands. They had succeeded!

“It’s queer,” he murmured idly, “you’d think the stitches would haverotted. They look just as good as new.”

They cut them carefully and ripped away the oilskin. Inside was a smallfolded sheet of paper. With trembling fingers they unfolded it. Thesheet 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 hisface 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 blazingmerrily. Tommy held the sheet of paper near the glow. The paper curled alittle with the heat. Nothing more.

Suddenly Julius grasped his arm, and pointed to where characters wereappearing in a faint brown colour.

“Gee whiz! You’ve got it! Say, that idea of yours was great. It neveroccurred to me.”

Tommy held the paper in position some minutes longer until he judged theheat had done its work. Then he withdrew it. A moment later he uttered acry.

Across the sheet in neat brown printing ran the words: WITH THECOMPLIMENTS OF MR. BROWN.


Tags: Agatha Christie Tommy & Tuppence Mystery