Part 27 (1/2)

”A fit morning for a do of this sort!” exclaimed Gilling suddenly. ”Is it pretty bare and bleak at this tower of yours, Spurge?”

”You'll be warm enough, guv'nor, where I shall put you,” answered Spurge. ”One as has knocked about these woods and moors as much as I've had to knows as many places to hide his nose in as a fox does! I'll put you by that tower where you'll be snug enough, and warm enough, too-and where n.o.body'll see you neither. And here's High Nick and out we get.”

Leaving the car in a deep cutting of the hills and instructing the driver to await the return of one or other of them at a wayside farmstead a mile back, the three adventurers followed Spurge into the wood which led to the top of the Beaver's Glen. The poacher guided them onward by narrow and winding tracks through the undergrowth for a good half-mile; then he led them through thickets in which there was no paths at all; finally, after a gradual and cautious advance behind a high hedge of dense evergreen, he halted them at a corner of the wood and motioned them to look out through a loosely-laced network of branches.

”Here we are!” he whispered. ”Tower-Reaver's Glen-sea in the distance.

Lone spot, ain't it, gentlemen?”

Copplestone and Gilling, who had never seen this part of the coast before, looked out on the scene with lively interest. It was certainly a prospect of romance and of wild, almost savage beauty on which they gazed. Immediately in front of them, at a distance of twenty to thirty yards, stood the old peel tower, a solid square ma.s.s of grey stone, intact as to its base and its middle stories, ruinous and crumbling from thence to what was left of its battlements and the turret tower at one angle. The fallen stone lay in irregular heaps on the ground at its foot; all around it were clumps of furze and bramble. From the level plateau on which it stood the Glen fell away in horseshoe formation gradually narrowing and descending until it terminated in a thick covert of fir and pine that ran down to the land end of the cove of which Spurge had told them. And beyond that stretched the wide expanse of sea, with here and there a red-sailed fis.h.i.+ng boat tossing restlessly on the white-capped waves, and over that and the land was a chill silence, broken only by the occasional cry of the sea-birds and the bleating of the mountain sheep.

”A lone spot indeed!” said Gilling in a whisper. ”Spurge, where is that stuff hidden?”

”Other side of the tower-in an angle of the old courtyard,” replied Spurge, ”Can't see the spot from here.”

”And where's that road you told us about?” asked Copplestone. ”The moor road?”

”Top o' the bank yonder-beyond the tower,” said Spurge. ”Runs round yonder corner o' this wood and goes right round it to High Nick, where we've cut across from. Hush now, all of you, gentlemen-I'm going to signal Jim.”

s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his mobile face into a strange contortion, Spurge emitted from his puckered lips a queer cry-a cry as of some trapped animal-so shrill and realistic that his hearers started.

”What on earth's that represent?” asked Gilling. ”It's blood-curdling?”

”Hare, with a stoat's teeth in its neck,” answered Spurge. ”H'sh-I'll call him again.”

No answer came to the first nor to the second summons-after a third, equally unproductive, Spurge looked at his companions with a scared face.

”That's a queer thing, guv'nors!” he muttered. ”Can't believe as how our Jim 'ud ever desert a post. He promised me faithfully as how he'd stick here like grim death until I came back. I hope he ain't had a fit, nor aught o' that sort-he ain't a strong chap at the best o' times, and-”

”You'd better take a careful look round, Spurge,” said Vickers.

”Here-shall I come with you?”

But Spurge waved a hand to them to stay where they were. He himself crept along the back of the hedge until he came to a point opposite the nearest angle of the tower. And suddenly he gave a great cry-human enough this time!-and the three young men rus.h.i.+ng forward found him standing by the body of a roughly-clad man in whom Copplestone recognized the one-eyed odd-job man of the ”Admiral's Arms.”

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE FOOTPRINTS

The man was lying face downwards in the gra.s.s and weeds which cl.u.s.tered thickly at the foot of the hedgerow, and on the line of rough, weatherbeaten neck which showed between his fur cap and his turned-up collar there was a patch of dried blood. Very still and apparently lifeless he looked, but Vickers suddenly bent down, laid strong hands on him and turned him over.

”He's not dead!” he exclaimed. ”Only unconscious from a crack on his skull. Gilling!-where's that brandy you brought?-hand me the flask.”

Zachary Spurge watched in silence as Vickers and Gilling busied themselves in reviving the stricken man. Then he quickly pulled Copplestone's sleeve and motioned him away from the group.

”Guv'nor!” he muttered. ”There's been foul play here-and all along of them nine boxes-that I'll warrant. Look you here, guv'nor-Jim's been dragged to where we found him-dragged through this here gap in the hedge and flung where he's lying. See-there's the plain marks, all through the gra.s.s and stuff. Come on, guv'nor-let's see where they lead.”

The marks of a heavy, inanimate body having been dragged through the wet gra.s.s were evidence enough, and Copplestone and Spurge followed them to a corner of the old tower where they ceased. Spurge glanced round that corner and uttered a sharp exclamation.

”Just what I expected!” he said. ”Leastways, what I expected as soon as I see Jim a-lying there. Guv'nor, the stuff's gone!”

He drew Copplestone after him and pointed to a corner of the weed-grown courtyard where a cavity had been made in the ma.s.s of fallen masonry and the stones taken from it lay about just as they had been displaced and thrown aside.

”That's where the nine boxes were,” he continued. ”Well, there ain't one of 'em there now! Naught but the hole where they was! Well-this must ha' been during the early morning-after I left Jim to go into Norcaster. And of course him as put the stuff there must be him as fetched it away-Chatfield. Let's see if there's footmarks about, guv'nor.”