The Lost Valley | Page 9

that was going to
help him in any way--but he was pretty alert. The moment he sighted
me he wheeled about and walked off in another direction. But, quick
and all as he was, I caught a passing glimpse of him. He had on a blue
serge suit, a rather cheap affair as well as I could judge at that distance,
and a black felt hat. Somehow I got the impression, though I was too
far away to say anything with certainty, that he was not so much sallow
as sunburnt. It was more than likely that he had not got a good look at
me--in that case he would not know me again, as I flattered myself that

there was nothing very distinctive about me. Still, as that marksman
behind the rocks must have been taking stock of me for some
considerable while, I realised that no definite advantage would accrue
from the fact that one of the gang might not be able to identify me. I
had no means of ascertaining how many there were in the organisation,
and something warned me not to display too much interest in Bryce's
presence. When I walked down the path and discovered him backing
the car into his garage I made no comment on the situation beyond
telling him that the spy had gone temporarily out of business and was at
present taking a constitutional down the street.
"All we can do then," Bryce said, "is to let him depart in peace and
trust that nothing happens. I wouldn't like any of that bunch to be cut
off in the midst of their sins. I've got another end mapped out for
them."
"If you figure me in on that, you're mighty mistaken," I said to myself.
"I'm the first line of defence, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to carry the
war into the enemy's country."
I needn't have been so cocksure about it, for as will shortly be related
that was just exactly what I did do.
CHAPTER III.
THE STRANGE BEHAVIOUR OF MR. BRYCE.
I made an excellent dinner. Bryce's kitchen and the meat-safes attached
proved on investigation to contain enough food for a family. First of all
I had a wash, and then when I felt a little more presentable, I dug up a
frying-pan, asked Bryce if he liked sausages and, being told that he did,
thanked Heaven that his tastes were similar to mine and set about
cooking them. Now I like my sausages fried nice and crisp, but I have
yet to find the lodging-house keeper this side of Gehenna who can fry
anything without burning it to a cinder. Though I don't wish to crack up
my own work, I'll say this for it--that, if I do like things done any
particular way, I can always be sure of pleasing myself if I do the
cooking.

I cooked with one eye on the gas-stove and the other on Bryce. I had
scarcely set to work before he wandered into the kitchen, found the
nail-brush or whatever it was that the cook used for cleaning the pots,
washed the black loam off the piece of wood which had so excited my
curiosity earlier in the day, and then commenced to scrub it. He used up
an inordinate amount of soap and quite a lot of elbow-grease, but when
he had finished the wood looked as if it had just been newly cut and
trimmed. What took my attention about it was that it was covered from
end to end with queer little marks or scratches. These seemed to interest
Bryce very much, for he pored over them like an antiquary who has
discovered a new kind of hieroglyphics. He got so interested in them
that he forgot my presence altogether. Once when I asked him some
simple question about the dinner he jumped as if he were shot, colored
up and then said, "Oh, I beg your pardon. What did you say?"
I repeated my question and he answered me as if his thoughts were
miles away. He was wide-awake enough when I walked over to the
kitchen sink on some errand or another to slip the wood into his pocket
and face me with a look in his eye that said as plainly as so many words,
"You're not going to steal a march on me, my lad. That's for my eyes
alone." Only once during the dinner-hour did he say anything that stuck
in my memory. On this occasion he turned to me and asked, "Can you
use a typewriter?"
"Now, he's going to make a private secretary of me," I thought. "I won't
bite." So I looked him straight in the eye and unblushingly answered
that I couldn't use one if I tried