The Lost Valley | Page 5

and include me in the sudden-death stakes."
"Quite likely," Bryce said, with a smile. "I wouldn't be at all surprised
if they hid behind a convenient hedge and potted us as we passed. But
you needn't come if that's what you're afraid of."
"I'll forgive you this time," I rattled on, "just because you've had such
an exciting experience, but don't ever hint anything like that again. I
don't know what fear's like."
"Self-praise," said Bryce, "is sometimes the highest form of
recommendation. At any rate it shows you've overcome fear, if only the
fear of criticism. But to be serious, Carstairs, there's trouble ahead of
both of us. My pursuers are getting very game, tackling me in front of a
third person, and I've got a funny sort of feeling that they'll catch me
napping one of these days. No matter what you say or do, you can't
alter the fact that you've identified yourself with me, and that means
that you're running just the same amount of danger that I am. You don't
look too prosperous yourself. What about joining forces with me and
sharing the plunder? Of course I can make it worth your while."
"Plunder," I said. "What do you mean! Are you running up against the
law?"
"If it's any relief to you to know it, I'm not. I rather fancy I've got the
law on my side."
"I was merely enquiring what inducements you had to offer. What do
you call 'making it worth my while?'"
When I turned down his first tentative offer I had quite made up my
mind that he wanted to engage me as a sort of super-butler with sudden
death included amongst the risks of service, and I had no intention of
mixing up in other people's quarrels on such terms. When I questioned
him directly about it I got a pleasant surprise.

"Well, my idea of making it worth your while is something like £100
for three months. That's about as long as I'll require you. After that you
can 'go to hell or to Connaught,' whichever you prefer."
"That's nice hearing," I told him. "And, I suppose, any time I take an
extra risk I get something pour boire?"
He nodded cheerfully.
"That's my offer, Carstairs," he said. "What do you say to it?"
"It's so damned alluring," I answered, "that I'm frightened to look at it
too close. I don't mind admitting that I'm about as hard up as I can be.
As a matter of fact I've not the least idea where I'm going to get my
next meal. All of which makes your offer doubly inviting. But I don't
want to jump at it in hot blood. I want time to think it over. I want to
stand off and wave my hat at it and say, 'Scat, you brute!' and see if it'll
shoo off. I'm frightened that it's not real, and that I'll take it on and then
wake up. Will you give me time to wake up?"
"If you'll drive in with me the two of us can dine together," Bryce
suggested. "That ought to give you time to wake up."
"I can't ask anything fairer than that," I agreed. "When do we start?"
"No time like the present. I've got the car paddocked down near the
reserve. It's only a matter of walking around the bluff. Come on."
I went along with him without comment, though I noticed that the last
thing he did was to bend down and pick up the piece of wood which
had so excited my curiosity earlier in the proceedings. It was small
enough to slip into his pocket, and this he did without a word either of
apology or explanation.
"It's a mighty innocent piece of wood," I thought, "but I'll bet all
Australia to an albatross that it's mixed up in the plot."
As we moved around the foot of the bluff I couldn't help turning the

situation over in my mind. Half an hour before I had been a wanderer
on the face of the earth, a man with no special abilities and no
outstanding vices. In that short space of time I had saved one man's life,
nearly taken that of another, and seemed in a fair way to make money
out of my twin attributes of steady nerves and good shooting. I was still
thinking in this strain when we rounded the bluff and commenced to
crawl across the intervening stretch of spinifex grass. I say "crawl"
advisedly. Bryce was far too heavy to do more than lumber along and
my feet were steadily getting worse. The spinifex grew knee-high and
its roots extended in all directions. They were hard, knobby things that
protruded through the loose sand, and every time I