Part 34 (2/2)

”You will excuse me for coming in unceremoniously, sir, but I had reasons for believing Tomlinson was here,” he said.

”He was here,” said Coulthurst. ”In fact, I don't quite understand how it was you didn't meet him going away.”

”I certainly did not,” and Esmond flashed a keen glance at him. ”If I had done so, I should naturally not have troubled you about him.”

Coulthurst appeared reflective.

”He was here. In fact, I have just done some business for him,” he said, and stopped; for one of the troopers cried out, and all could hear a thud of hoofs and the smas.h.i.+ng of undergrowth. Coulthurst glanced suggestively at Esmond.

”That sounds very much like somebody riding through the bush,” he said.

Esmond certainly wasted no time now in ceremony. He was on the veranda in another moment and shouting to the trooper, who led up a horse. They vanished amidst a rustle of trampled fern, and Sewell laughed as he and Leger turned back towards the shanty.

”One could fancy Major Coulthurst belonged to the aristocracy some of our friends are pleased to consider played out; but there are at least signs of intelligence in him,” he said. ”He is, by the way, I am somewhat proud to claim, a friend of mine, though that is, of course, no compliment to him.”

”Well,” replied Leger drily, ”it is seldom wise to generalize too freely, which is a mistake we make now and then. After all, it may be a little hard on the major to blame him for being a gentleman. He probably couldn't help it, you see.”

He had spoken lightly to hide his anxiety; but now he stopped a moment and stood listening intently. A faint sound of splas.h.i.+ng and scrambling came up out of the hollow through the rain.

”It's not a trail most men would care to ride down in daylight, but they seem to be facing it,” he said. ”If they caught Ingleby it would complicate the thing.”

”It's scarcely likely,” said Sewell. ”He got away two or three minutes before they did.”

”The difficulty is that Ingleby can't ride as you and the troopers can.”

Sewell touched his shoulder.

”Listen,” he said, and Leger heard the roar of the river throb across the dripping pines. ”When they get near the ford the troopers are scarcely likely to hear anything else through that, and they would naturally not expect the man they're after to double back for the canon.

If they push on as they seem to be doing, they should be a good way down the trail by morning.”

They both laughed at this, and were sitting in the shanty half an hour later when Ingleby limped in, smiling and very miry, with his jean jacket badly split.

”Tomlinson got away?” he asked.

”Presumably,” said Leger. ”We were almost afraid you hadn't. We haven't seen him. Where are Captain Esmond and his troopers?”

Ingleby laughed. ”They were riding very recklessly over an infamous trail with my horse in front of them when I last saw them. I was just then behind a tree. The beast I couldn't stop simplified the thing by flinging me off. I hadn't any stirrups, perhaps fortunately.”

”They'd catch the horse eventually,” said Sewell.

”Of course! That is, if they could keep in the saddle long enough, which is far from certain, considering the state of the trail. Then they would naturally fancy that Tomlinson had taken to the range. In fact, I shouldn't wonder if they spent most of to-morrow looking for his trail.

Still, there is a question I should like to ask. Why did you worry Tomlinson about that plant?”

Sewell took a little packet from his pocket and opened it. There were one or two pulpy leaves inside it.

”Those grew on the plant in question, which Tomlinson had never heard of. The Indians use them for stopping blood,” he said. ”I took them from the body of Trooper Probyn.”

There was silence for a little while, and during it the sound of the river came up to them in deep pulsations through the roar of the rain.

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