首页 >出版文学> THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS>第1章
  TO
  THOMASARTHURNELSON
  (LOTHIANANDBORDERHORSE)
  MyDearTommy,YouandIhavelongcherishedanaffectionforthatelementaltypeoftalewhichAmericanscallthe’dimenovel’andwhichweknowasthe’shocker’-theromancewheretheincidentsdefytheprobabilities,andmarchjustinsidethebordersofthepossible。DuringanillnesslastwinterIexhaustedmystoreofthoseaidstocheerfulness,andwasdriventowriteoneformyself。Thislittlevolumeistheresult,andIshouldliketoputyournameonitinmemoryofourlongfriendship,inthedayswhenthewildestfictionsaresomuchlessimprobablethanthefacts。
  J。B。
  CONTENTS
  1。TheManWhoDied2。TheMilkmanSetsOutonhisTravels3。TheAdventureoftheLiteraryInnkeeper4。TheAdventureoftheRadicalCandidate5。TheAdventureoftheSpectacledRoadman6。TheAdventureoftheBaldArchaeologist7。TheDry-FlyFisherman8。TheComingoftheBlackStone9。TheThirty-NineSteps10。VariousPartiesConvergingontheSeaCHAPTERONE
  TheManWhoDiedIreturnedfromtheCityaboutthreeo’clockonthatMayafternoonprettywelldisgustedwithlife。IhadbeenthreemonthsintheOldCountry,andwasfedupwithit。IfanyonehadtoldmeayearagothatIwouldhavebeenfeelinglikethatIshouldhavelaughedathim;buttherewasthefact。Theweathermademeliverish,thetalkoftheordinaryEnglishmanmademesick,Icouldn’tgetenoughexercise,andtheamusementsofLondonseemedasflatassoda-
  waterthathasbeenstandinginthesun。’RichardHannay,’Ikepttellingmyself,’youhavegotintothewrongditch,myfriend,andyouhadbetterclimbout。’
  ItmademebitemylipstothinkoftheplansIhadbeenbuildingupthoselastyearsinBulawayo。Ihadgotmypile-notoneofthebigones,butgoodenoughforme;andIhadfiguredoutallkindsofwaysofenjoyingmyself。MyfatherhadbroughtmeoutfromScotlandattheageofsix,andIhadneverbeenhomesince;soEnglandwasasortofArabianNightstome,andIcountedonstoppingtherefortherestofmydays。
  ButfromthefirstIwasdisappointedwithit。InaboutaweekI
  wastiredofseeingsights,andinlessthanamonthIhadhadenoughofrestaurantsandtheatresandrace-meetings。Ihadnorealpaltogoaboutwith,whichprobablyexplainsthings。Plentyofpeopleinvitedmetotheirhouses,buttheydidn’tseemmuchinterestedinme。TheywouldflingmeaquestionortwoaboutSouthAfrica,andthengetontheirownaffairs。AlotofImperialistladiesaskedmetoteatomeetschoolmastersfromNewZealandandeditorsfromVancouver,andthatwasthedismalestbusinessofall。HerewasI,thirty-sevenyearsold,soundinwindandlimb,withenoughmoneytohaveagoodtime,yawningmyheadoffallday。Ihadjustaboutsettledtoclearoutandgetbacktotheveld,forIwasthebestboredmanintheUnitedKingdom。
  ThatafternoonIhadbeenworryingmybrokersaboutinvestmentstogivemymindsomethingtoworkon,andonmywayhomeIturnedintomyclub-ratherapot-house,whichtookinColonialmembers。Ihadalongdrink,andreadtheeveningpapers。TheywerefulloftherowintheNearEast,andtherewasanarticleaboutKarolides,theGreekPremier。Iratherfanciedthechap。Fromallaccountsheseemedtheonebigmanintheshow;
  andheplayedastraightgametoo,whichwasmorethancouldbesaidformostofthem。IgatheredthattheyhatedhimprettyblacklyinBerlinandVienna,butthatweweregoingtostickbyhim,andonepapersaidthathewastheonlybarrierbetweenEuropeandArmageddon。IrememberwonderingifIcouldgetajobinthoseparts。ItstruckmethatAlbaniawasthesortofplacethatmightkeepamanfromyawning。
  Aboutsixo’clockIwenthome,dressed,dinedattheCafeRoyal,andturnedintoamusic-hall。Itwasasillyshow,allcaperingwomenandmonkey-facedmen,andIdidnotstaylong。ThenightwasfineandclearasIwalkedbacktotheflatIhadhirednearPortlandPlace。Thecrowdsurgedpastmeonthepavements,busyandchattering,andIenviedthepeopleforhavingsomethingtodo。Theseshop-girlsandclerksanddandiesandpolicemenhadsomeinterestinlifethatkeptthemgoing。Igavehalf-a-crowntoabeggarbecauseIsawhimyawn;hewasafellow-sufferer。AtOxfordCircusIlookedupintothespringskyandImadeavow。IwouldgivetheOldCountryanotherdaytofitmeintosomething;ifnothinghappened,IwouldtakethenextboatfortheCape。
  MyflatwasthefirstfloorinanewblockbehindLanghamPlace。
  Therewasacommonstaircase,withaporterandaliftmanattheentrance,buttherewasnorestaurantoranythingofthatsort,andeachflatwasquiteshutofffromtheothers。Ihateservantsonthepremises,soIhadafellowtolookaftermewhocameinbytheday。Hearrivedbeforeeighto’clockeverymorningandusedtodepartatseven,forIneverdinedathome。
  IwasjustfittingmykeyintothedoorwhenInoticedamanatmyelbow。Ihadnotseenhimapproach,andthesuddenappearancemademestart。Hewasaslimman,withashortbrownbeardandsmall,gimletyblueeyes。Irecognizedhimastheoccupantofaflatonthetopfloor,withwhomIhadpassedthetimeofdayonthestairs。
  ’CanIspeaktoyou?’hesaid。’MayIcomeinforaminute?’Hewassteadyinghisvoicewithaneffort,andhishandwaspawingmyarm。
  Igotmydooropenandmotionedhimin。Nosoonerwasheoverthethresholdthanhemadeadashformybackroom,whereI
  usedtosmokeandwritemyletters。Thenheboltedback。
  ’Isthedoorlocked?’heaskedfeverishly,andhefastenedthechainwithhisownhand。
  ’I’mverysorry,’hesaidhumbly。’It’samightyliberty,butyoulookedthekindofmanwhowouldunderstand。I’vehadyouinmymindallthisweekwhenthingsgottroublesome。Say,willyoudomeagoodturn?’
  ’I’lllistentoyou,’Isaid。’That’sallI’llpromise。’Iwasgettingworriedbytheanticsofthisnervouslittlechap。
  Therewasatrayofdrinksonatablebesidehim,fromwhichhefilledhimselfastiffwhisky-and-soda。Hedrankitoffinthreegulps,andcrackedtheglassashesetitdown。
  ’Pardon,’hesaid,’I’mabitrattledtonight。Yousee,Ihappenatthismomenttobedead。’
  Isatdowninanarmchairandlitmypipe。
  ’Whatdoesitfeellike?’Iasked。IwasprettycertainthatIhadtodealwithamadman。
  Asmileflickeredoverhisdrawnface。’I’mnotmad-yet。Say,Sir,I’vebeenwatchingyou,andIreckonyou’reacoolcustomer。I
  reckon,too,you’reanhonestman,andnotafraidofplayingaboldhand。I’mgoingtoconfideinyou。Ineedhelpworsethananymaneverneededit,andIwanttoknowifIcancountyouin。’
  ’Getonwithyouryarn,’Isaid,’andI’lltellyou。’
  Heseemedtobracehimselfforagreateffort,andthenstartedonthequeerestrigmarole。Ididn’tgetholdofitatfirst,andIhadtostopandaskhimquestions。Buthereisthegistofit:
  HewasanAmerican,fromKentucky,andaftercollege,beingprettywelloff,hehadstartedouttoseetheworld。Hewroteabit,andactedaswarcorrespondentforaChicagopaper,andspentayearortwoinSouth-EasternEurope。Igatheredthathewasafinelinguist,andhadgottoknowprettywellthesocietyinthoseparts。
  HespokefamiliarlyofmanynamesthatIrememberedtohaveseeninthenewspapers。
  Hehadplayedaboutwithpolitics,hetoldme,atfirstfortheinterestofthem,andthenbecausehecouldn’thelphimself。Ireadhimasasharp,restlessfellow,whoalwayswantedtogetdowntotherootsofthings。Hegotalittlefurtherdownthanhewanted。
  IamgivingyouwhathetoldmeaswellasIcouldmakeitout。
  AwaybehindalltheGovernmentsandthearmiestherewasabigsubterraneanmovementgoingon,engineeredbyverydangerouspeople。Hehadcomeonitbyaccident;itfascinatedhim;hewentfurther,andthenhegotcaught。Igatheredthatmostofthepeopleinitwerethesortofeducatedanarchiststhatmakerevolutions,butthatbesidethemtherewerefinancierswhowereplayingformoney。
  Aclevermancanmakebigprofitsonafallingmarket,anditsuitedthebookofbothclassestosetEuropebytheears。
  Hetoldmesomequeerthingsthatexplainedalotthathadpuzzledme-thingsthathappenedintheBalkanWar,howonestatesuddenlycameoutontop,whyalliancesweremadeandbroken,whycertainmendisappeared,andwherethesinewsofwarcamefrom。TheaimofthewholeconspiracywastogetRussiaandGermanyatloggerheads。
  WhenIaskedwhy,hesaidthattheanarchistlotthoughtitwouldgivethemtheirchance。Everythingwouldbeinthemelting-
  pot,andtheylookedtoseeanewworldemerge。Thecapitalistswouldrakeintheshekels,andmakefortunesbybuyingupwreckage。
  Capital,hesaid,hadnoconscienceandnofatherland。Besides,theJewwasbehindit,andtheJewhatedRussiaworsethanhell。
  ’Doyouwonder?’hecried。’Forthreehundredyearstheyhavebeenpersecuted,andthisisthereturnmatchforthepogroms。TheJewiseverywhere,butyouhavetogofardownthebackstairstofindhim。TakeanybigTeutonicbusinessconcern。IfyouhavedealingswithitthefirstmanyoumeetisPrincevonundZuSomething,anelegantyoungmanwhotalksEton-and-HarrowEnglish。
  Buthecutsnoice。Ifyourbusinessisbig,yougetbehindhimandfindaprognathousWestphalianwitharetreatingbrowandthemannersofahog。HeistheGermanbusinessmanthatgivesyourEnglishpaperstheshakes。Butifyou’reonthebiggestkindofjobandareboundtogettotherealboss,tentooneyouarebroughtupagainstalittlewhite-facedJewinabath-chairwithaneyelikearattlesnake。Yes,Sir,heisthemanwhoisrulingtheworldjustnow,andhehashisknifeintheEmpireoftheTzar,becausehisauntwasoutragedandhisfatherfloggedinsomeone-horselocationontheVolga。’
  IcouldnothelpsayingthathisJew-anarchistsseemedtohavegotleftbehindalittle。
  ’Yesandno,’hesaid。’Theywonuptoapoint,buttheystruckabiggerthingthanmoney,athingthatcouldn’tbebought,theoldelementalfightinginstinctsofman。Ifyou’regoingtobekilledyouinventsomekindofflagandcountrytofightfor,andifyousurviveyougettolovethething。Thosefoolishdevilsofsoldiershavefoundsomethingtheycarefor,andthathasupsettheprettyplanlaidinBerlinandVienna。Butmyfriendshaven’tplayedtheirlastcardbyalongsight。They’vegottentheaceuptheirsleeves,andunlessIcankeepaliveforamonththeyaregoingtoplayitandwin。’
  ’ButIthoughtyouweredead,’Iputin。
  ’MORSJANUAVITAE,’hesmiled。(Irecognizedthequotation:itwasaboutalltheLatinIknew。)’I’mcomingtothat,butI’vegottoputyouwiseaboutalotofthingsfirst。Ifyoureadyournewspaper,I
  guessyouknowthenameofConstantineKarolides?’
  Isatupatthat,forIhadbeenreadingabouthimthatveryafternoon。
  ’Heisthemanthathaswreckedalltheirgames。Heistheonebigbraininthewholeshow,andhehappensalsotobeanhonestman。Thereforehehasbeenmarkeddownthesetwelvemonthspast。Ifoundthatout-notthatitwasdifficult,foranyfoolcouldguessasmuch。ButIfoundoutthewaytheyweregoingtogethim,andthatknowledgewasdeadly。That’swhyIhavehadtodecease。’
  Hehadanotherdrink,andImixeditforhimmyself,forIwasgettinginterestedinthebeggar。
  ’Theycan’tgethiminhisownland,forhehasabodyguardofEpirotesthatwouldskintheirgrandmothers。Butonthe15thdayofJuneheiscomingtothiscity。TheBritishForeignOfficehastakentohavingInternationaltea-parties,andthebiggestofthemisdueonthatdate。NowKarolidesisreckonedtheprincipalguest,andifmyfriendshavetheirwayhewillneverreturntohisadmiringcountrymen。’
  ’That’ssimpleenough,anyhow,’Isaid。’Youcanwarnhimandkeephimathome。’
  ’Andplaytheirgame?’heaskedsharply。’Ifhedoesnotcometheywin,forhe’stheonlymanthatcanstraightenoutthetangle。
  AndifhisGovernmentarewarnedhewon’tcome,forhedoesnotknowhowbigthestakeswillbeonJunethe15th。’
  ’WhatabouttheBritishGovernment?’Isaid。’They’renotgoingtolettheirguestsbemurdered。Tipthemthewink,andthey’lltakeextraprecautions。’
  ’Nogood。Theymightstuffyourcitywithplain-clothesdetectivesanddoublethepoliceandConstantinewouldstillbeadoomedman。Myfriendsarenotplayingthisgameforcandy。Theywantabigoccasionforthetakingoff,withtheeyesofallEuropeonit。He’llbemurderedbyanAustrian,andthere’llbeplentyofevidencetoshowtheconnivanceofthebigfolkinViennaandBerlin。Itwillallbeaninfernallie,ofcourse,butthecasewilllookblackenoughtotheworld。I’mnottalkinghotair,myfriend。I
  happentoknoweverydetailofthehellishcontrivance,andIcantellyouitwillbethemostfinishedpieceofblackguardismsincetheBorgias。Butit’snotgoingtocomeoffifthere’sacertainmanwhoknowsthewheelsofthebusinessaliverighthereinLondononthe15thdayofJune。Andthatmanisgoingtobeyourservant,FranklinP。Scudder。’
  Iwasgettingtolikethelittlechap。Hisjawhadshutlikearat-
  trap,andtherewasthefireofbattleinhisgimletyeyes。Ifhewasspinningmeayarnhecouldactuptoit。
  ’Wheredidyoufindoutthisstory?’Iasked。
  ’IgotthefirsthintinaninnontheAchenseeinTyrol。Thatsetmeinquiring,andIcollectedmyothercluesinafur-shopintheGalicianquarterofBuda,inaStrangers’ClubinVienna,andinalittlebookshopofftheRacknitzstrasseinLeipsic。IcompletedmyevidencetendaysagoinParis。Ican’ttellyouthedetailsnow,forit’ssomethingofahistory。WhenIwasquitesureinmyownmindI
  judgeditmybusinesstodisappear,andIreachedthiscitybyamightyqueercircuit。IleftParisadandifiedyoungFrench-American,andI
  sailedfromHamburgaJewdiamondmerchant。InNorwayIwasanEnglishstudentofIbsencollectingmaterialsforlectures,butwhenI
  leftBergenIwasacinema-manwithspecialskifilms。AndIcameherefromLeithwithalotofpulp-woodpropositionsinmypockettoputbeforetheLondonnewspapers。TillyesterdayIthoughtIhadmuddiedmytrailsome,andwasfeelingprettyhappy。Then……’
  Therecollectionseemedtoupsethim,andhegulpeddownsomemorewhisky。
  ’ThenIsawamanstandinginthestreetoutsidethisblock。I
  usedtostaycloseinmyroomallday,andonlyslipoutafterdarkforanhourortwo。Iwatchedhimforabitfrommywindow,andI
  thoughtIrecognizedhim……Hecameinandspoketotheporter……WhenIcamebackfrommywalklastnightIfoundacardinmyletter-box。ItborethenameofthemanIwantleasttomeetonGod’searth。’
  Ithinkthatthelookinmycompanion’seyes,thesheernakedscareonhisface,completedmyconvictionofhishonesty。MyownvoicesharpenedabitasIaskedhimwhathedidnext。
  ’IrealizedthatIwasbottledassureasapickledherring,andthattherewasonlyonewayout。Ihadtodie。IfmypursuersknewI
  wasdeadtheywouldgotosleepagain。’
  ’Howdidyoumanageit?’
  ’ItoldthemanthatvaletsmethatIwasfeelingprettybad,andI
  gotmyselfuptolooklikedeath。Thatwasn’tdifficult,forI’mnoslouchatdisguises。ThenIgotacorpse-youcanalwaysgetabodyinLondonifyouknowwheretogoforit。Ifetcheditbackinatrunkonthetopofafour-wheeler,andIhadtobeassistedupstairstomyroom。YouseeIhadtopileupsomeevidencefortheinquest。Iwenttobedandgotmymantomixmeasleeping-
  draught,andthentoldhimtoclearout。Hewantedtofetchadoctor,butIsworesomeandsaidIcouldn’tabideleeches。WhenI
  wasleftaloneIstartedintofakeupthatcorpse。Hewasmysize,andIjudgedhadperishedfromtoomuchalcohol,soIputsomespiritshandyabouttheplace。Thejawwastheweakpointinthelikeness,soIblewitawaywitharevolver。Idaresaytherewillbesomebodytomorrowtosweartohavingheardashot,buttherearenoneighboursonmyfloor,andIguessedIcouldriskit。SoIleftthebodyinbeddressedupinmypyjamas,witharevolverlyingonthebed-clothesandaconsiderablemessaround。ThenIgotintoasuitofclothesIhadkeptwaitingforemergencies。Ididn’tdaretoshaveforfearofleavingtracks,andbesides,itwasn’tanykindofusemytryingtogetintothestreets。Ihadhadyouinmymindallday,andthereseemednothingtodobuttomakeanappealtoyou。
  IwatchedfrommywindowtillIsawyoucomehome,andthenslippeddownthestairtomeetyou……There,Sir,Iguessyouknowaboutasmuchasmeofthisbusiness。’
  Hesatblinkinglikeanowl,flutteringwithnervesandyetdesperatelydetermined。BythistimeIwasprettywellconvincedthathewasgoingstraightwithme。Itwasthewildestsortofnarrative,butIhadheardinmytimemanysteeptaleswhichhadturnedouttobetrue,andIhadmadeapracticeofjudgingthemanratherthanthestory。Ifhehadwantedtogetalocationinmyflat,andthencutmythroat,hewouldhavepitchedamilderyarn。
  ’Handmeyourkey,’Isaid,’andI’lltakealookatthecorpse。
  Excusemycaution,butI’mboundtoverifyabitifIcan。’
  Heshookhisheadmournfully。’Ireckonedyou’daskforthat,butIhaven’tgotit。It’sonmychainonthedressing-table。Ihadtoleaveitbehind,forIcouldn’tleaveanycluestobreedsuspicions。
  Thegentrywhoareaftermeareprettybright-eyedcitizens。You’llhavetotakemeontrustforthenight,andtomorrowyou’llgetproofofthecorpsebusinessrightenough。’
  Ithoughtforaninstantortwo。’Right。I’lltrustyouforthenight。I’lllockyouintothisroomandkeepthekey。justoneword,MrScudder。Ibelieveyou’restraight,butifsobeyouarenotI
  shouldwarnyouthatI’mahandymanwithagun。’
  ’Sure,’hesaid,jumpingupwithsomebriskness。’Ihaven’ttheprivilegeofyourname,Sir,butletmetellyouthatyou’reawhiteman。I’llthankyoutolendmearazor。’
  Itookhimintomybedroomandturnedhimloose。Inhalfanhour’stimeafigurecameoutthatIscarcelyrecognized。Onlyhisgimlety,hungryeyeswerethesame。Hewasshavedclean,hishairwaspartedinthemiddle,andhehadcuthiseyebrows。Further,hecarriedhimselfasifhehadbeendrilled,andwastheverymodel,eventothebrowncomplexion,ofsomeBritishofficerwhohadhadalongspellinIndia。Hehadamonocle,too,whichhestuckinhiseye,andeverytraceoftheAmericanhadgoneoutofhisspeech。
  ’Myhat!MrScudder-’Istammered。
  ’NotMrScudder,’hecorrected;’CaptainTheophilusDigby,ofthe40thGurkhas,presentlyhomeonleave。I’llthankyoutorememberthat,Sir。’
  Imadehimupabedinmysmoking-roomandsoughtmyowncouch,morecheerfulthanIhadbeenforthepastmonth。Thingsdidhappenoccasionally,eveninthisGod-forgottenmetropolis。
  Iwokenextmorningtohearmyman,Paddock,makingthedeuceofarowatthesmoking-roomdoor。PaddockwasafellowIhaddoneagoodturntooutontheSelakwe,andIhadinspannedhimasmyservantassoonasIgottoEngland。Hehadaboutasmuchgiftofthegabasahippopotamus,andwasnotagreathandatvaleting,butIknewIcouldcountonhisloyalty。
  ’Stopthatrow,Paddock,’Isaid。’There’safriendofmine,Captain-Captain’(Icouldn’trememberthename)’dossingdowninthere。Getbreakfastfortwoandthencomeandspeaktome。’
  ItoldPaddockafinestoryabouthowmyfriendwasagreatswell,withhisnervesprettybadfromoverwork,whowantedabsoluterestandstillness。Nobodyhadgottoknowhewashere,orhewouldbebesiegedbycommunicationsfromtheIndiaOfficeandthePrimeMinisterandhiscurewouldberuined。IamboundtosayScudderplayedupsplendidlywhenhecametobreakfast。HefixedPaddockwithhiseyeglass,justlikeaBritishofficer,askedhimabouttheBoerWar,andslungoutatmealotofstuffaboutimaginarypals。Paddockcouldn’tlearntocallme’Sir’,buthe’sirred’Scudderasifhislifedependedonit。
  Ilefthimwiththenewspaperandaboxofcigars,andwentdowntotheCitytillluncheon。WhenIgotbackthelift-manhadanimportantface。
  ’Nawstybusiness’erethismorning,Sir。GentinNo。15beenandshot’isself。They’vejusttook’imtothemortiary。Thepoliceareuptherenow。’
  IascendedtoNo。15,andfoundacoupleofbobbiesandaninspectorbusymakinganexamination。Iaskedafewidioticquestions,andtheysoonkickedmeout。ThenIfoundthemanthathadvaletedScudder,andpumpedhim,butIcouldseehesuspectednothing。Hewasawhiningfellowwithachurchyardface,andhalf-
  a-crownwentfartoconsolehim。
  Iattendedtheinquestnextday。Apartnerofsomepublishingfirmgaveevidencethatthedeceasedhadbroughthimwood-pulppropositions,andhadbeen,hebelieved,anagentofanAmericanbusiness。
  Thejuryfounditacaseofsuicidewhileofunsoundmind,andthefeweffectswerehandedovertotheAmericanConsultodealwith。IgaveScudderafullaccountoftheaffair,anditinterestedhimgreatly。Hesaidhewishedhecouldhaveattendedtheinquest,forhereckoneditwouldbeaboutasspicyastoreadone’sownobituarynotice。
  Thefirsttwodayshestayedwithmeinthatbackroomhewasverypeaceful。Hereadandsmokedabit,andmadeaheapofjottingsinanote-book,andeverynightwehadagameofchess,atwhichhebeatmehollow。Ithinkhewasnursinghisnervesbacktohealth,forhehadhadaprettytryingtime。ButonthethirddayI
  couldseehewasbeginningtogetrestless。HefixedupalistofthedaystillJune15th,andtickedeachoffwitharedpencil,makingremarksinshorthandagainstthem。Iwouldfindhimsunkinabrownstudy,withhissharpeyesabstracted,andafterthosespellsofmeditationhewasapttobeverydespondent。
  ThenIcouldseethathebegantogetedgyagain。Helistenedforlittlenoises,andwasalwaysaskingmeifPaddockcouldbetrusted。
  Onceortwicehegotverypeevish,andapologizedforit。Ididn’tblamehim。Imadeeveryallowance,forhehadtakenonafairlystiffjob。
  Itwasnotthesafetyofhisownskinthattroubledhim,butthesuccessoftheschemehehadplanned。Thatlittlemanwascleangritallthrough,withoutasoftspotinhim。Onenighthewasverysolemn。
  ’Say,Hannay,’hesaid,’IjudgeIshouldletyouabitdeeperintothisbusiness。Ishouldhatetogooutwithoutleavingsomebodyelsetoputupafight。’AndhebegantotellmeindetailwhatIhadonlyheardfromhimvaguely。
  Ididnotgivehimverycloseattention。Thefactis,Iwasmoreinterestedinhisownadventuresthaninhishighpolitics。IreckonedthatKarolidesandhisaffairswerenotmybusiness,leavingallthattohim。Soalotthathesaidslippedcleanoutofmymemory。IrememberthathewasveryclearthatthedangertoKarolideswouldnotbegintillhehadgottoLondon,andwouldcomefromtheveryhighestquarters,wheretherewouldbenothoughtofsuspicion。Hementionedthenameofawoman-JuliaCzechenyi-ashavingsomethingtodowiththedanger。Shewouldbethedecoy,Igathered,togetKarolidesoutofthecareofhisguards。Hetalked,too,aboutaBlackStoneandamanthatlispedinhisspeech,andhedescribedveryparticularlysomebodythatheneverreferredtowithoutashudder-
  anoldmanwithayoungvoicewhocouldhoodhiseyeslikeahawk。
  Hespokeagooddealaboutdeath,too。Hewasmortallyanxiousaboutwinningthroughwithhisjob,buthedidn’tcarearushforhislife。
  ’Ireckonit’slikegoingtosleepwhenyouareprettywelltiredout,andwakingtofindasummerdaywiththescentofhaycominginatthewindow。IusedtothankGodforsuchmorningswaybackintheBlue-Grasscountry,andIguessI’llthankHimwhenIwakeupontheothersideofJordan。’
  Nextdayhewasmuchmorecheerful,andreadthelifeofStonewallJacksonmuchofthetime。IwentouttodinnerwithaminingengineerIhadgottoseeonbusiness,andcamebackabouthalf-pasttenintimeforourgameofchessbeforeturningin。
  Ihadacigarinmymouth,Iremember,asIpushedopenthesmoking-roomdoor。Thelightswerenotlit,whichstruckmeasodd。IwonderedifScudderhadturnedinalready。
  Isnappedtheswitch,buttherewasnobodythere。ThenIsawsomethinginthefarcornerwhichmademedropmycigarandfallintoacoldsweat。
  Myguestwaslyingsprawledonhisback。Therewasalongknifethroughhisheartwhichskeweredhimtothefloor。
  CHAPTERTWO
  TheMilkmanSetsOutonhisTravelsIsatdowninanarmchairandfeltverysick。Thatlastedformaybefiveminutes,andwassucceededbyafitofthehorrors。ThepoorstaringwhitefaceonthefloorwasmorethanIcouldbear,andI
  managedtogetatable-clothandcoverit。ThenIstaggeredtoacupboard,foundthebrandyandswallowedseveralmouthfuls。I
  hadseenmendieviolentlybefore;indeedIhadkilledafewmyselfintheMatabeleWar;butthiscold-bloodedindoorbusinesswasdifferent。StillImanagedtopullmyselftogether。Ilookedatmywatch,andsawthatitwashalf-pastten。
  Anideaseizedme,andIwentovertheflatwithasmall-toothcomb。Therewasnobodythere,noranytraceofanybody,butI
  shutteredandboltedallthewindowsandputthechainonthedoor。
  Bythistimemywitswerecomingbacktome,andIcouldthinkagain。Ittookmeaboutanhourtofigurethethingout,andIdidnothurry,for,unlessthemurderercameback,Ihadtillaboutsixo’clockinthemorningformycogitations。
  Iwasinthesoup-thatwasprettyclear。AnyshadowofadoubtImighthavehadaboutthetruthofScudder’stalewasnowgone。
  Theproofofitwaslyingunderthetable-cloth。Themenwhoknewthatheknewwhatheknewhadfoundhim,andhadtakenthebestwaytomakecertainofhissilence。Yes;buthehadbeeninmyroomsfourdays,andhisenemiesmusthavereckonedthathehadconfidedinme。SoIwouldbethenexttogo。Itmightbethatverynight,ornextday,orthedayafter,butmynumberwasupallright。
  ThensuddenlyIthoughtofanotherprobability。SupposingI
  wentoutnowandcalledinthepolice,orwenttobedandletPaddockfindthebodyandcalltheminthemorning。WhatkindofastorywasItotellaboutScudder?IhadliedtoPaddockabouthim,andthewholethinglookeddesperatelyfishy。IfImadeacleanbreastofitandtoldthepoliceeverythinghehadtoldme,theywouldsimplylaughatme。TheoddswereathousandtoonethatI
  wouldbechargedwiththemurder,andthecircumstantialevidencewasstrongenoughtohangme。FewpeopleknewmeinEngland;I
  hadnorealpalwhocouldcomeforwardandsweartomycharacter。
  Perhapsthatwaswhatthosesecretenemieswereplayingfor。Theywerecleverenoughforanything,andanEnglishprisonwasasgoodawayofgettingridofmetillafterJune15thasaknifeinmychest。
  Besides,ifItoldthewholestory,andbyanymiraclewasbelieved,Iwouldbeplayingtheirgame。Karolideswouldstayathome,whichwaswhattheywanted。SomehoworotherthesightofScudder’sdeadfacehadmademeapassionatebelieverinhisscheme。Hewasgone,buthehadtakenmeintohisconfidence,andIwasprettywellboundtocarryonhiswork。
  Youmaythinkthisridiculousforamanindangerofhislife,butthatwasthewayIlookedatit。Iamanordinarysortoffellow,notbraverthanotherpeople,butIhatetoseeagoodmandowned,andthatlongknifewouldnotbetheendofScudderifIcouldplaythegameinhisplace。
  Ittookmeanhourortwotothinkthisout,andbythattimeI
  hadcometoadecision。Imustvanishsomehow,andkeepvanishedtilltheendofthesecondweekinJune。ThenImustsomehowfindawaytogetintouchwiththeGovernmentpeopleandtellthemwhatScudderhadtoldme。IwishedtoHeavenhehadtoldmemore,andthatIhadlistenedmorecarefullytothelittlehehadtoldme。Iknewnothingbutthebarestfacts。Therewasabigriskthat,evenifIweatheredtheotherdangers,Iwouldnotbebelievedintheend。Imusttakemychanceofthat,andhopethatsomethingmighthappenwhichwouldconfirmmytaleintheeyesoftheGovernment。
  Myfirstjobwastokeepgoingforthenextthreeweeks。Itwasnowthe24thdayofMay,andthatmeanttwentydaysofhidingbeforeIcouldventuretoapproachthepowersthatbe。Ireckonedthattwosetsofpeoplewouldbelookingforme-Scudder’senemiestoputmeoutofexistence,andthepolice,whowouldwantmeforScudder’smurder。Itwasgoingtobeagiddyhunt,anditwasqueerhowtheprospectcomfortedme。Ihadbeenslacksolongthatalmostanychanceofactivitywaswelcome。WhenI
  hadtositalonewiththatcorpseandwaitonFortuneIwasnobetterthanacrushedworm,butifmyneck’ssafetywastohangonmyownwitsIwaspreparedtobecheerfulaboutit。
  MynextthoughtwaswhetherScudderhadanypapersabouthimtogivemeabettercluetothebusiness。Idrewbackthetable-clothandsearchedhispockets,forIhadnolongeranyshrinkingfromthebody。Thefacewaswonderfullycalmforamanwhohadbeenstruckdowninamoment。Therewasnothinginthebreast-pocket,andonlyafewloosecoinsandacigar-holderinthewaistcoat。Thetrousersheldalittlepenknifeandsomesilver,andthesidepocketofhisjacketcontainedanoldcrocodile-skincigar-case。TherewasnosignofthelittleblackbookinwhichIhadseenhimmakingnotes。Thathadnodoubtbeentakenbyhismurderer。
  ButasIlookedupfrommytaskIsawthatsomedrawershadbeenpulledoutinthewriting-table。Scudderwouldneverhavelefttheminthatstate,forhewasthetidiestofmortals。Someonemusthavebeensearchingforsomething-perhapsforthepocket-book。
  Iwentroundtheflatandfoundthateverythinghadbeenransacked-theinsideofbooks,drawers,cupboards,boxes,eventhepocketsoftheclothesinmywardrobe,andthesideboardinthedining-room。Therewasnotraceofthebook。Mostlikelytheenemyhadfoundit,buttheyhadnotfounditonScudder’sbody。
  ThenIgotoutanatlasandlookedatabigmapoftheBritishIsles。Mynotionwastogetofftosomewilddistrict,wheremyveldcraftwouldbeofsomeusetome,forIwouldbelikeatrappedratinacity。IconsideredthatScotlandwouldbebest,formypeoplewereScotchandIcouldpassanywhereasanordinaryScotsman。IhadhalfanideaatfirsttobeaGermantourist,formyfatherhadhadGermanpartners,andIhadbeenbroughtuptospeakthetongueprettyfluently,nottomentionhavingputinthreeyearsprospectingforcopperinGermanDamaraland。ButI
  calculatedthatitwouldbelessconspicuoustobeaScot,andlessinalinewithwhatthepolicemightknowofmypast。IfixedonGallowayasthebestplacetogo。ItwasthenearestwildpartofScotland,sofarasIcouldfigureitout,andfromthelookofthemapwasnotoverthickwithpopulation。
  AsearchinBradshawinformedmethatatrainleftStPancrasat7。10,whichwouldlandmeatanyGallowaystationinthelateafternoon。Thatwaswellenough,butamoreimportantmatterwashowIwastomakemywaytoStPancras,forIwasprettycertainthatScudder’sfriendswouldbewatchingoutside。Thispuzzledmeforabit;thenIhadaninspiration,onwhichIwenttobedandsleptfortwotroubledhours。
  Igotupatfourandopenedmybedroomshutters。Thefaintlightofafinesummermorningwasfloodingtheskies,andthesparrowshadbeguntochatter。Ihadagreatrevulsionoffeeling,andfeltaGod-forgottenfool。Myinclinationwastoletthingsslide,andtrusttotheBritishpolicetakingareasonableviewofmycase。ButasIreviewedthesituationIcouldfindnoargumentstobringagainstmydecisionofthepreviousnight,sowithawrymouthIresolvedtogoonwithmyplan。Iwasnotfeelinginanyparticularfunk;onlydisinclinedtogolookingfortrouble,ifyouunderstandme。
  Ihuntedoutawell-usedtweedsuit,apairofstrongnailedboots,andaflannelshirtwithacollar。IntomypocketsIstuffedaspareshirt,aclothcap,somehandkerchiefs,andatooth-brush。Ihaddrawnagoodsumingoldfromthebanktwodaysbefore,incaseScuddershouldwantmoney,andItookfiftypoundsofitinsovereignsinabeltwhichIhadbroughtbackfromRhodesia。ThatwasaboutallIwanted。ThenIhadabath,andcutmymoustache,whichwaslonganddrooping,intoashortstubblyfringe。
  Nowcamethenextstep。Paddockusedtoarrivepunctuallyat7。30andlethimselfinwithalatch-key。Butabouttwentyminutestoseven,asIknewfrombitterexperience,themilkmanturnedupwithagreatclatterofcans,anddepositedmyshareoutsidemydoor。IhadseenthatmilkmansometimeswhenIhadgoneoutforanearlyride。Hewasayoungmanaboutmyownheight,withanill-nourishedmoustache,andheworeawhiteoverall。OnhimI
  stakedallmychances。
  Iwentintothedarkenedsmoking-roomwheretheraysofmorninglightwerebeginningtocreepthroughtheshutters。ThereI
  breakfastedoffawhisky-and-sodaandsomebiscuitsfromthecupboard。
  Bythistimeitwasgettingonforsixo’clock。IputapipeinMyPocketandfilledmypouchfromthetobaccojaronthetablebythefireplace。
  AsIpokedintothetobaccomyfingerstouchedsomethinghard,andIdrewoutScudder’slittleblackpocket-book……
  Thatseemedtomeagoodomen。Iliftedtheclothfromthebodyandwasamazedatthepeaceanddignityofthedeadface。’Goodbye,oldchap,’Isaid;’Iamgoingtodomybestforyou。Wishmewell,whereveryouare。’
  ThenIhungaboutinthehallwaitingforthemilkman。Thatwastheworstpartofthebusiness,forIwasfairlychokingtogetoutofdoors。Six-thirtypassed,thensix-forty,butstillhedidnotcome。
  Thefoolhadchosenthisdayofalldaystobelate。
  AtoneminuteafterthequartertosevenIheardtherattleofthecansoutside。Iopenedthefrontdoor,andtherewasmyman,singlingoutmycansfromabunchhecarriedandwhistlingthroughhisteeth。Hejumpedabitatthesightofme。
  ’Comeinhereamoment,’Isaid。’Iwantawordwithyou。’AndIledhimintothedining-room。
  ’Ireckonyou’reabitofasportsman,’Isaid,’andIwantyoutodomeaservice。Lendmeyourcapandoverallfortenminutes,andhere’sasovereignforyou。’
  Hiseyesopenedatthesightofthegold,andhegrinnedbroadly。
  ’Wot’sthegyme?’heasked。
  ’Abet,’Isaid。’Ihaven’ttimetoexplain,buttowinitI’vegottobeamilkmanforthenexttenminutes。Allyou’vegottodoistostayheretillIcomeback。You’llbeabitlate,butnobodywillcomplain,andyou’llhavethatquidforyourself。’
  ’Right-o!’hesaidcheerily。’Iain’tthemantospoilabitofsport。
  ’Ere’stherig,guv’nor。’
  Istuckonhisflatbluehatandhiswhiteoverall,pickedupthecans,bangedmydoor,andwentwhistlingdownstairs。Theporteratthefoottoldmetoshutmyjaw,whichsoundedasifmymake-upwasadequate。
  AtfirstIthoughttherewasnobodyinthestreet。ThenIcaughtsightofapolicemanahundredyardsdown,andaloafershufflingpastontheotherside。Someimpulsemademeraisemyeyestothehouseopposite,andthereatafirst-floorwindowwasaface。Astheloaferpassedhelookedup,andIfanciedasignalwasexchanged。
  Icrossedthestreet,whistlinggailyandimitatingthejauntyswingofthemilkman。ThenItookthefirstsidestreet,andwentupaleft-handturningwhichledpastabitofvacantground。Therewasnooneinthelittlestreet,soIdroppedthemilk-cansinsidethehoardingandsentthecapandoverallafterthem。Ihadonlyjustputonmyclothcapwhenapostmancameroundthecorner。Igavehimgoodmorningandheansweredmeunsuspiciously。Atthemomenttheclockofaneighbouringchurchstruckthehourofseven。
  Therewasnotasecondtospare。AssoonasIgottoEustonRoadItooktomyheelsandran。TheclockatEustonStationshowedfiveminutespastthehour。AtStPancrasIhadnotimetotakeaticket,letalonethatIhadnotsettleduponmydestination。A
  portertoldmetheplatform,andasIentereditIsawthetrainalreadyinmotion。Twostationofficialsblockedtheway,butI
  dodgedthemandclamberedintothelastcarriage。
  Threeminuteslater,aswewereroaringthroughthenortherntunnels,anirateguardinterviewedme。HewroteoutformeatickettoNewton-Stewart,anamewhichhadsuddenlycomebacktomymemory,andheconductedmefromthefirst-classcompartmentwhereIhadensconcedmyselftoathird-classsmoker,occupiedbyasailorandastoutwomanwithachild。Hewentoffgrumbling,andasImoppedmybrowIobservedtomycompanionsinmybroadestScotsthatitwasasorejobcatchingtrains。Ihadalreadyentereduponmypart。
  ’Theimpidenceo’thatgyaird!’saidtheladybitterly。’HeneeditaScotchtonguetopithiminhisplace。Hewascomplainin’o’thisweannohaein’aticketandhernofowertillAugusttwalmonth,andhewasobjectin’tothisgentlemanspittin’。’
  Thesailormoroselyagreed,andIstartedmynewlifeinanatmosphereofprotestagainstauthority。IremindedmyselfthataweekagoIhadbeenfindingtheworlddull。
  CHAPTERTHREE
  TheAdventureoftheLiteraryInnkeeperIhadasolemntimetravellingnorththatday。ItwasfineMayweather,withthehawthornfloweringoneveryhedge,andIaskedmyselfwhy,whenIwasstillafreeman,IhadstayedoninLondonandnotgotthegoodofthisheavenlycountry。Ididn’tdarefacetherestaurantcar,butIgotaluncheon-basketatLeedsandshareditwiththefatwoman。AlsoIgotthemorning’spapers,withnewsaboutstartersfortheDerbyandthebeginningofthecricketseason,andsomeparagraphsabouthowBalkanaffairsweresettlingdownandaBritishsquadronwasgoingtoKiel。
  WhenIhaddonewiththemIgotoutScudder’slittleblackpocket-bookandstudiedit。Itwasprettywellfilledwithjottings,chieflyfigures,thoughnowandthenanamewasprintedin。Forexample,Ifoundthewords’Hofgaard’,’Luneville’,and’Avocado’
  prettyoften,andespeciallytheword’Pavia’。
  NowIwascertainthatScudderneverdidanythingwithoutareason,andIwasprettysurethattherewasacypherinallthis。
  Thatisasubjectwhichhasalwaysinterestedme,andIdidabitatitmyselfonceasintelligenceofficeratDelagoaBayduringtheBoerWar。Ihaveaheadforthingslikechessandpuzzles,andI
  usedtoreckonmyselfprettygoodatfindingoutcyphers。Thisonelookedlikethenumericalkindwheresetsoffigurescorrespondtothelettersofthealphabet,butanyfairlyshrewdmancanfindthecluetothatsortafteranhourortwo’swork,andIdidn’tthinkScudderwouldhavebeencontentwithanythingsoeasy。SoI
  fastenedontheprintedwords,foryoucanmakeaprettygoodnumericalcypherifyouhaveakeywordwhichgivesyouthesequenceoftheletters。
  Itriedforhours,butnoneofthewordsanswered。ThenIfellasleepandwokeatDumfriesjustintimetobundleoutandgetintotheslowGallowaytrain。TherewasamanontheplatformwhoselooksIdidn’tlike,butheneverglancedatme,andwhenIcaughtsightofmyselfinthemirrorofanautomaticmachineIdidn’twonder。Withmybrownface,myoldtweeds,andmyslouch,Iwastheverymodelofoneofthehillfarmerswhowerecrowdingintothethird-classcarriages。
  Itravelledwithhalfadozeninanatmosphereofshagandclaypipes。Theyhadcomefromtheweeklymarket,andtheirmouthswerefullofprices。IheardaccountsofhowthelambinghadgoneuptheCairnandtheDeuchandadozenothermysteriouswaters。
  Abovehalfthemenhadlunchedheavilyandwerehighlyflavouredwithwhisky,buttheytooknonoticeofme。Werumbledslowlyintoalandoflittlewoodedglensandthentoagreatwidemoorlandplace,gleamingwithlochs,withhighbluehillsshowingnorthwards。
  Aboutfiveo’clockthecarriagehademptied,andIwasleftaloneasIhadhoped。Igotoutatthenextstation,alittleplacewhosenameIscarcelynoted,setrightintheheartofabog。ItremindedmeofoneofthoseforgottenlittlestationsintheKarroo。Anoldstation-masterwasdigginginhisgarden,andwithhisspadeoverhisshouldersaunteredtothetrain,tookchargeofaparcel,andwentbacktohispotatoes。Achildoftenreceivedmyticket,andI
  emergedonawhiteroadthatstraggledoverthebrownmoor。
  Itwasagorgeousspringevening,witheveryhillshowingasclearasacutamethyst。Theairhadthequeer,rootysmellofbogs,butitwasasfreshasmid-ocean,andithadthestrangesteffectonmyspirits。Iactuallyfeltlight-hearted。Imighthavebeenaboyoutforaspringholidaytramp,insteadofamanofthirty-sevenverymuchwantedbythepolice。IfeltjustasIusedtofeelwhenIwasstartingforabigtrekonafrostymorningonthehighveld。Ifyoubelieveme,Iswungalongthatroadwhistling。Therewasnoplanofcampaigninmyhead,onlyjusttogoonandoninthisblessed,honest-smellinghillcountry,foreverymileputmeinbetterhumourwithmyself。
  InaroadsideplantingIcutawalking-stickofhazel,andpresentlystruckoffthehighwayupabypathwhichfollowedtheglenofabrawlingstream。IreckonedthatIwasstillfaraheadofanypursuit,andforthatnightmightpleasemyself。ItwassomehourssinceI
  hadtastedfood,andIwasgettingveryhungrywhenIcametoaherd’scottagesetinanookbesideawaterfall。Abrown-facedwomanwasstandingbythedoor,andgreetedmewiththekindlyshynessofmoorlandplaces。WhenIaskedforanight’slodgingshesaidIwaswelcometothe’bedintheloft’,andverysoonshesetbeforemeaheartymealofhamandeggs,scones,andthicksweetmilk。
  Atthedarkeninghermancameinfromthehills,aleangiant,whoinonestepcoveredasmuchgroundasthreepacesofordinarymortals。Theyaskedmenoquestions,fortheyhadtheperfectbreedingofalldwellersinthewilds,butIcouldseetheysetmedownasakindofdealer,andItooksometroubletoconfirmtheirview。Ispokealotaboutcattle,ofwhichmyhostknewlittle,andI
  pickedupfromhimagooddealaboutthelocalGallowaymarkets,whichItuckedawayinmymemoryforfutureuse。AttenIwasnoddinginmychair,andthe’bedintheloft’receivedawearymanwhoneveropenedhiseyestillfiveo’clocksetthelittlehomesteada-goingoncemore。
  Theyrefusedanypayment,andbysixIhadbreakfastedandwasstridingsouthwardsagain。MynotionwastoreturntotherailwaylineastationortwofartheronthantheplacewhereIhadalightedyesterdayandtodoubleback。Ireckonedthatthatwasthesafestway,forthepolicewouldnaturallyassumethatIwasalwaysmakingfartherfromLondoninthedirectionofsomewesternport。I
  thoughtIhadstillagoodbitofastart,for,asIreasoned,itwouldtakesomehourstofixtheblameonme,andseveralmoretoidentifythefellowwhogotonboardthetrainatStPancras。
  itwasthesamejolly,clearspringweather,andIsimplycouldnotcontrivetofeelcareworn。IndeedIwasinbetterspiritsthanI
  hadbeenformonths。OveralongridgeofmoorlandItookmyroad,skirtingthesideofahighhillwhichtheherdhadcalledCairnsmoreofFleet。Nestingcurlewsandploverswerecryingeverywhere,andthelinksofgreenpasturebythestreamsweredottedwithyounglambs。Alltheslacknessofthepastmonthswasslippingfrommybones,andIsteppedoutlikeafour-year-old。By-and-byI
  cametoaswellofmoorlandwhichdippedtothevaleofalittleriver,andamileawayintheheatherIsawthesmokeofatrain。
  Thestation,whenIreachedit,provedtobeidealformypurpose。
  Themoorsurgeduparounditandleftroomonlyforthesingleline,theslendersiding,awaiting-room,anoffice,thestation-
  master’scottage,andatinyyardofgooseberriesandsweet-william。
  Thereseemednoroadtoitfromanywhere,andtoincreasethedesolationthewavesofatarnlappedontheirgreygranitebeachhalfamileaway。IwaitedinthedeepheathertillIsawthesmokeofaneast-goingtrainonthehorizon。ThenIapproachedthetinybooking-officeandtookaticketforDumfries。
  Theonlyoccupantsofthecarriagewereanoldshepherdandhisdog-awall-eyedbrutethatImistrusted。Themanwasasleep,andonthecushionsbesidehimwasthatmorning’sSCOTSMAN。EagerlyI
  seizedonit,forIfancieditwouldtellmesomething。
  ThereweretwocolumnsaboutthePortlandPlaceMurder,asitwascalled。MymanPaddockhadgiventhealarmandhadthemilkmanarrested。Poordevil,itlookedasifthelatterhadearnedhissovereignhardly;butformehehadbeencheapattheprice,forheseemedtohaveoccupiedthepoliceforthebetterpartoftheday。InthelatestnewsIfoundafurtherinstalmentofthestory。Themilkmanhadbeenreleased,Iread,andthetruecriminal,aboutwhoseidentitythepolicewerereticent,wasbelievedtohavegotawayfromLondonbyoneofthenorthernlines。Therewasashortnoteaboutmeastheowneroftheflat。Iguessedthepolicehadstuckthatin,asaclumsycontrivancetopersuademethatIwasunsuspected。
  Therewasnothingelseinthepaper,nothingaboutforeignpoliticsorKarolides,orthethingsthathadinterestedScudder。I
  laiditdown,andfoundthatwewereapproachingthestationatwhichIhadgotoutyesterday。Thepotato-diggingstation-masterhadbeengingeredupintosomeactivity,forthewest-goingtrainwaswaitingtoletuspass,andfromithaddescendedthreemenwhowereaskinghimquestions。Isupposedthattheywerethelocalpolice,whohadbeenstirredupbyScotlandYard,andhadtracedmeasfarasthisone-horsesiding。SittingwellbackintheshadowI
  watchedthemcarefully。Oneofthemhadabook,andtookdownnotes。Theoldpotato-diggerseemedtohaveturnedpeevish,butthechildwhohadcollectedmyticketwastalkingvolubly。Allthepartylookedoutacrossthemoorwherethewhiteroaddeparted。I
  hopedtheyweregoingtotakeupmytracksthere。
  Aswemovedawayfromthatstationmycompanionwokeup。
  Hefixedmewithawanderingglance,kickedhisdogviciously,andinquiredwherehewas。Clearlyhewasverydrunk。
  ’That’swhatcomeso’bein’ateetotaller,’heobservedinbitterregret。
  IexpressedmysurprisethatinhimIshouldhavemetablue-
  ribbonstalwart。
  ’Ay,butI’mastrongteetotaller,’hesaidpugnaciously。’ItookthepledgelastMartinmas,andIhavenatouchedadropo’whiskysinsyne。NotevenatHogmanay,thoughIwassairtemptit。’
  Heswunghisheelsupontheseat,andburrowedafrowsyheadintothecushions。
  ’Andthat’sa’Iget,’hemoaned。’Aheidhetterthanhellfire,andtwaeeenlookin’differentwaysfortheSabbath。’
  ’Whatdidit?’Iasked。
  ’Adrinktheyca’brandy。Bein’ateetotallerIkeepitoffthewhisky,butIwasnip-nippin’a’dayatthisbrandy,andIdoubtI’llnobeweelforafortnicht。’Hisvoicediedawayintoasplutter,andsleeponcemorelaiditsheavyhandonhim。
  Myplanhadbeentogetoutatsomestationdowntheline,butthetrainsuddenlygavemeabetterchance,foritcametoastandstillattheendofaculvertwhichspannedabrawlingporter-colouredriver。Ilookedoutandsawthateverycarriagewindowwasclosedandnohumanfigureappearedinthelandscape。SoIopenedthedoor,anddroppedquicklyintothetangleofhazelswhichedgedtheline。
  itwouldhavebeenallrightbutforthatinfernaldog。UndertheimpressionthatIwasdecampingwithitsmaster’sbelongings,itstartedtobark,andallbutgotmebythetrousers。Thiswokeuptheherd,whostoodbawlingatthecarriagedoorinthebeliefthatI
  hadcommittedsuicide。Icrawledthroughthethicket,reachedtheedgeofthestream,andincoverofthebushesputahundredyardsorsobehindme。ThenfrommyshelterIpeeredback,andsawtheguardandseveralpassengersgatheredroundtheopencarriagedoorandstaringinmydirection。IcouldnothavemadeamorepublicdepartureifIhadleftwithabuglerandabrassband。
  Happilythedrunkenherdprovidedadiversion。Heandhisdog,whichwasattachedbyaropetohiswaist,suddenlycascadedoutofthecarriage,landedontheirheadsonthetrack,androlledsomewaydownthebanktowardsthewater。Intherescuewhichfollowedthedogbitsomebody,forIcouldhearthesoundofhardswearing。
  Presentlytheyhadforgottenme,andwhenafteraquarterofamile’scrawlIventuredtolookback,thetrainhadstartedagainandwasvanishinginthecutting。
  Iwasinawidesemicircleofmoorland,withthebrownriverasradius,andthehighhillsformingthenortherncircumference。Therewasnotasignorsoundofahumanbeing,onlytheplashingwaterandtheinterminablecryingofcurlews。Yet,oddlyenough,forthefirsttimeIfelttheterrorofthehuntedonme。ItwasnotthepolicethatIthoughtof,buttheotherfolk,whoknewthatIknewScudder’ssecretanddarednotletmelive。IwascertainthattheywouldpursuemewithakeennessandvigilanceunknowntotheBritishlaw,andthatoncetheirgripclosedonmeIshouldfindnomercy。
  Ilookedback,buttherewasnothinginthelandscape。Thesunglintedonthemetalsofthelineandthewetstonesinthestream,andyoucouldnothavefoundamorepeacefulsightintheworld。
  NeverthelessIstartedtorun。Crouchinglowintherunnelsofthebog,Irantillthesweatblindedmyeyes。ThemooddidnotleavemetillIhadreachedtherimofmountainandflungmyselfpantingonaridgehighabovetheyoungwatersofthebrownriver。
  Frommyvantage-groundIcouldscanthewholemoorrightawaytotherailwaylineandtothesouthofitwheregreenfieldstooktheplaceofheather。Ihaveeyeslikeahawk,butIcouldseenothingmovinginthewholecountryside。ThenIlookedeastbeyondtheridgeandsawanewkindoflandscape-shallowgreenvalleyswithplentifulfirplantationsandthefaintlinesofdustwhichspokeofhighroads。LastofallIlookedintotheblueMaysky,andthereIsawthatwhichsetmypulsesracing……
  Lowdowninthesouthamonoplanewasclimbingintotheheavens。IwasascertainasifIhadbeentoldthatthataeroplanewaslookingforme,andthatitdidnotbelongtothepolice。ForanhourortwoIwatcheditfromapitofheather。Itflewlowalongthehill-tops,andtheninnarrowcirclesoverthevalleyupwhichI
  hadcome’Thenitseemedtochangeitsmind,rosetoagreatheight,andflewawaybacktothesouth。
  Ididnotlikethisespionagefromtheair,andIbegantothinklesswellofthecountrysideIhadchosenforarefuge。Theseheatherhillswerenosortofcoverifmyenemieswereinthesky,andImustfindadifferentkindofsanctuary。Ilookedwithmoresatisfactiontothegreencountrybeyondtheridge,forthereI
  shouldfindwoodsandstonehouses。
  AboutsixintheeveningIcameoutofthemoorlandtoawhiteribbonofroadwhichwoundupthenarrowvaleofalowlandstream。AsIfollowedit,fieldsgaveplacetobent,theglenbecameaplateau,andpresentlyIhadreachedakindofpasswhereasolitaryhousesmokedinthetwilight。Theroadswungoverabridge,andleaningontheparapetwasayoungman。
  Hewassmokingalongclaypipeandstudyingthewaterwithspectacledeyes。Inhislefthandwasasmallbookwithafingermarkingtheplace。Slowlyherepeated-
  AswhenaGryphonthroughthewildernessWithwingedstep,o’erhillandmoorydalePursuestheArimaspian。
  Hejumpedroundasmysteprungonthekeystone,andIsawapleasantsunburntboyishface。
  ’Goodeveningtoyou,’hesaidgravely。’It’safinenightfortheroad。’
  Thesmellofpeatsmokeandofsomesavouryroastfloatedtomefromthehouse。
  ’Isthatplaceaninn?’Iasked。
  ’Atyourservice,’hesaidpolitely。’Iamthelandlord,Sir,andI
  hopeyouwillstaythenight,fortotellyouthetruthIhavehadnocompanyforaweek。’
  Ipulledmyselfupontheparapetofthebridgeandfilledmypipe。Ibegantodetectanally。
  ’You’reyoungtobeaninnkeeper,’Isaid。
  ’Myfatherdiedayearagoandleftmethebusiness。Ilivetherewithmygrandmother。It’saslowjobforayoungman,anditwasn’tmychoiceofprofession。’
  ’Whichwas?’
  Heactuallyblushed。’Iwanttowritebooks,’hesaid。
  ’Andwhatbetterchancecouldyouask?’Icried。’Man,I’veoftenthoughtthataninnkeeperwouldmakethebeststory-tellerintheworld。’
  ’Notnow,’hesaideagerly。’Maybeintheolddayswhenyouhadpilgrimsandballad-makersandhighwaymenandmail-coachesontheroad。Butnotnow。Nothingcomesherebutmotor-carsfulloffatwomen,whostopforlunch,andafishermanortwointhespring,andtheshootingtenantsinAugust。Thereisnotmuchmaterialtobegotoutofthat。Iwanttoseelife,totraveltheworld,andwritethingslikeKiplingandConrad。ButthemostI’vedoneyetistogetsomeversesprintedinCHAMBERS’SJOURNAL。’
  Ilookedattheinnstandinggoldeninthesunsetagainstthebrownhills。
  ’I’veknockedabitabouttheworld,andIwouldn’tdespisesuchahermitage。D’youthinkthatadventureisfoundonlyinthetropicsoramonggentryinredshirts?Maybeyou’rerubbingshoulderswithitatthismoment。’
  ’That’swhatKiplingsays,’hesaid,hiseyesbrightening,andhequotedsomeverseabout’Romancebringingupthe9。15’。
  ’Here’satruetaleforyouthen,’Icried,’andamonthfromnowyoucanmakeanoveloutofit。’
  SittingonthebridgeinthesoftMaygloamingIpitchedhimalovelyyarn。Itwastrueinessentials,too,thoughIalteredtheminordetails。ImadeoutthatIwasaminingmagnatefromKimberley,whohadhadalotoftroublewithI。D。B。andhadshownupagang。
  Theyhadpursuedmeacrosstheocean,andhadkilledmybestfriend,andwerenowonmytracks。
  Itoldthestorywell,thoughIsayitwhoshouldn’t。IpicturedaflightacrosstheKalaharitoGermanAfrica,thecrackling,parchingdays,thewonderfulblue-velvetnights。Idescribedanattackonmylifeonthevoyagehome,andImadeareallyhorridaffairofthePortlandPlacemurder。’You’relookingforadventure,’Icried;
  ’well,you’vefoundithere。Thedevilsareafterme,andthepoliceareafterthem。It’saracethatImeantowin。’
  ’ByGod!’hewhispered,drawinghisbreathinsharply,’itisallpureRiderHaggardandConanDoyle。’
  ’Youbelieveme,’Isaidgratefully。
  ’OfcourseIdo,’andheheldouthishand。’Ibelieveeverythingoutofthecommon。Theonlythingtodistrustisthenormal。’
  Hewasveryyoung,buthewasthemanformymoney。
  ’Ithinkthey’reoffmytrackforthemoment,butImustliecloseforacoupleofdays。Canyoutakemein?’
  Hecaughtmyelbowinhiseagernessanddrewmetowardsthehouse。’Youcanlieassnughereasifyouwereinamoss-hole。I’llseethatnobodyblabs,either。Andyou’llgivemesomemorematerialaboutyouradventures?’
  AsIenteredtheinnporchIheardfromfaroffthebeatofanengine。TheresilhouettedagainsttheduskyWestwasmyfriend,themonoplane。
  Hegavemearoomatthebackofthehouse,withafineoutlookovertheplateau,andhemademefreeofhisownstudy,whichwasstackedwithcheapeditionsofhisfavouriteauthors。Ineversawthegrandmother,soIguessedshewasbedridden。AnoldwomancalledMargitbroughtmemymeals,andtheinnkeeperwasaroundmeatallhours。Iwantedsometimetomyself,soIinventedajobforhim。
  Hehadamotor-bicycle,andIsenthimoffnextmorningforthedailypaper,whichusuallyarrivedwiththepostinthelateafternoon。I
  toldhimtokeephiseyesskinned,andmakenoteofanystrangefigureshesaw,keepingaspecialsharplook-outformotorsandaeroplanes。ThenIsatdowninrealearnesttoScudder’snote-book。
  HecamebackatmiddaywiththeSCOTSMAN。Therewasnothinginit,exceptsomefurtherevidenceofPaddockandthemilkman,andarepetitionofyesterday’sstatementthatthemurdererhadgoneNorth。Buttherewasalongarticle,reprintedfromTHETIMES,aboutKarolidesandthestateofaffairsintheBalkans,thoughtherewasnomentionofanyvisittoEngland。Igotridoftheinnkeeperfortheafternoon,forIwasgettingverywarminmysearchforthecypher。
  AsItoldyou,itwasanumericalcypher,andbyanelaboratesystemofexperimentsIhadprettywelldiscoveredwhatwerethenullsandstops。Thetroublewasthekeyword,andwhenIthoughtoftheoddmillionwordshemighthaveusedIfeltprettyhopeless。
  Butaboutthreeo’clockIhadasuddeninspiration。