Part 32 (1/2)

”Isn't it?” c.u.mshaw queried quickly.

I shook my head. ”Not in the least,” I said. ”If the tree was absolutely necessary it'd mean that we'd have to wait until 3rd or 4th of December, the day on which Bradby buried the treasure, and the only day of the year on which the sun, the tree and the threshold of the hut would be in an exact line. Bryce's idea of having to wait three months must have been conceived in the belief that the 3rd or 4th June would answer equally well. It might, but I'm not so sure about it. I guess there'd be a lot of difference in the declination of the sun. But now the tree's gone we're left without that seemingly necessary leading mark.”

”What are we going to do about it?” c.u.mshaw demanded.

”We can't give up after having gone so far,” said Moira.

”We're not,” I told her. ”There's a way out of it, and the simplest way on earth. It's so infernally simple that we've all overlooked it. It narrows down to a simple problem in geometry. Do you remember what the cypher said?”

”'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at right angles to the previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'”

He rattled through the directions so rapidly that I knew he must have had them off by heart.

”That's it,” I said, while the others listened in breathless interest.

”Now this is the position to my mind: The line that runs through the doorway, the tree and the sun must go due east. The sun at that time of the year would be due east. Well, all we have to do is to cast our east line, carry it along for seven feet, and then turn so that we are facing direct north.”

”And at right angles to the previous line,” Moira reminded me.

”It's the same thing,” I said. ”Direct north runs at right angles to direct east, if you want to know. However, when we've got our north line we follow it for twelve feet, and after that we dig. Quite possibly Bradby made some slight variation--he wouldn't have the necessary instruments to make his figures absolutely exact--but, as I've said before, I don't see that we can go very far wrong. Whatever variation there is won't matter much once we start digging. If we allow a foot or so in all directions we'll be on the safe side. What do you think, c.u.mshaw?”

”Well,” he said slowly, ”it sounds feasible enough, and if it turns out as well in practice as it does in theory I'll have nothing to say against it.”

”There's only one way of making sure,” I said tentatively.

Moira turned on me. ”What's that?” she asked with unfeigned interest.

”Trying and seeing for ourselves,” I answered. ”Here we are, right on the very spot, so why not put it to the test?”

Neither of them answered. A queer, speculative look crept into Moira's eyes and c.u.mshaw paled a little beneath his tan. It was the crucial moment of the expedition, and the mere adoption of my suggestion meant that in the next few minutes we would be face to face with either failure or success--none of us knew which. While we were in ignorance there was always room for hope, but the instant our investigation was concluded the matter would be settled for good or for evil.

”Well,” I asked, ”what about it?”

”I suppose we've got to do it some time,” c.u.mshaw said slowly. ”We might as well do it first as last. What do you say, Miss Drummond?”

”Ye-es,” said Moira in a half-whisper. ”Ye-es, I suppose we had better.”

”And you, Carstairs?”

”Nothing venture, nothing win,” I quoted gaily. ”Anyway it's my suggestion, and I'm not going to fall down on it. I didn't bring the spade along just for the fun of carrying it.”

”Go on then,” c.u.mshaw said.

Then commenced the operation of locating the position of the treasure.

As the one most used to such things I snapped open my pocket-compa.s.s, took a line from the mouldering ruin that had once been the threshold of the hut, and proceeded to calmly measure off the requisite distance. The others followed my movements with breathless interest; c.u.mshaw's cheeks were still pale, partly from the stress of emotion and partly, I fancy, because he feared that, even at the last, Fate would play a trick on us and bring the work of two generations to nothing. Two little red spots glowed in Moira's cheeks, and in her eyes was an opalescent glow that spoke of suppressed excitement. I wasn't so carried away by my feelings as the others were--I had been trained in a rough school, and my training had taught me at all times to keep an adequate control over my emotions--but the romance of the adventure and the excitement of the game had penetrated even my thick skin, and the mere fact that others hung breathlessly on my movements swayed me a little from the normal.

That streak of vanity which is in all of us came to the surface, as it does with the best of men at the best of times.