Part 12 (1/2)

I nodded.

”Go on,” Moira urged. ”You came to tell us about your father, Mr. Abel c.u.mshaw.”

”That's right,” said the young man with amazing alacrity. ”You're all right too. I wasn't sure at first, but now I see you're in the game with me. From what I know of it we're all like pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. We all fit in, and none of us is any use without the others. That being so, I fancy that we had better all place our cards on the table. Now which of you has got the cypher?”

Moira looked at me for guidance. I was pleased to see that she was learning that she couldn't do without me. I was pleased--no, I wasn't pleased at all, for it didn't matter now what Moira thought of me.

”What cypher is that?” I enquired innocently.

”There is only one cypher, Mr. Carstairs,” Mr. c.u.mshaw stated. He seemed so sure about it that my curiosity was aroused.

”Indeed?” I said politely. I knew better than to contradict him outright, so I did it by implication.

”There's only the one,” the young man repeated. ”You should know, because Mr. Bryce left it to you.”

If I had had any doubts before as to the genuine character of my visitor they all vanished at that last remark of his. It was one of those things that a man could not have guessed, however clever he might be. He must have had inside knowledge. Hitherto I had been indulging in that pleasant pastime that is known in boxing circles as ”sparring for wind,”

but now I dropped the pose completely and answered him as straightforwardly as was consistent with reasonable caution.

”Yes, he did leave a cypher to me,” I admitted. ”But what do you know about it?”

”Only what Mr. Bryce wrote me. I'm sorry I can't show you the letter, but Mr. Bryce had an invariable rule that all correspondence from him must be burnt as soon as read.”

”I guess I've got to accept you at your face value, Mr. c.u.mshaw,” I said. ”You'll pardon me for doubting you at first, but it pays to be cautious in a game like this. Now I'd like to know just how we are going to a.s.sist each other.”

”That's more than I can say,” the young man smiled. ”If I tell you the story from start to finish, maybe you'll get a better idea of what we're after.”

”Would it take long?” I said diffidently. ”It's fairly late now.”

”If Mr. c.u.mshaw would stop to tea,” Moira suggested, and looked to me for approval of her proposition. Under the circ.u.mstances there was only one thing for me to do, so I did it.

”You'll greatly oblige us if you stop,” I said. ”That is if it won't be causing any inconvenience?” I added questioningly.

”None at all,” he said cheerily. ”Nothing of this sort ever inconveniences me”--this latter with a glance at Moira.

”So that's the game, is it, young man?” I said to myself. ”Well, here's luck to you.”

Aloud I said, ”I am pleased to hear it.” The funny part of it all was that I really meant it. There was something open and honest about the man himself, there was a healthful glow in his dark eyes, and he had a way of looking at one that was the very essence of frankness itself.

Without knowing more of him than I had learnt in the few minutes we had been conversing, I felt that he was as open as the day. In this case at least my first impressions were more than justified by the course of events.

Mr. c.u.mshaw stopped to tea and made himself very much at home, and afterwards he told us the story of the gold escort. I have not set out his tale as we heard it that evening. For one thing he only related what he happened to know about the matter, and as a result there were many little blanks he had to leave unfilled. But with the completion of our enterprise many additional facts have come to light, and so it is that, with Mr. c.u.mshaw's aid and at his suggestion, I give here a fuller and more comprehensive version of the affair than he related to us that evening.

PART II.

_THE ADVENTURES OF MR. ABEL c.u.mSHAW._

CHAPTER I.