his obsession had returned. Outside,
somewhere in the woods, "Hawk" was approaching to keep his tryst and
McGuire could think of nothing else. This preoccupation was marked by a
frowning thatch of brow and a sullen glare at vacancy which gave no
evidence of the fears that had inspired him, but indicated a mind made
up in desperation to carry out his plans, through Peter, whatever
happened later. Only the present concerned him. But underneath his
outward appearance of calm, Peter was aware of an intense alertness, for
from time to time his eyes glowed suddenly and the muscles worked in his
cheeks as he clamped his jaws shut and held them so.

As the clock struck ten McGuire got to his feet and walked to the safe,
which he opened carefully and took out the money that Peter had brought.
Then he went to a closet and took out an electric torch which he tested
and then put upon the table.

"You're armed, Nichols?" he asked.

Peter nodded. "But of course there's no reason why your mysterious
visitor should take a pot at me," he said. And then, curiously, "Do you
think so, Mr. McGuire?"

"Oh, no," said the other quickly. "You have no interest in this affair.
You're my messenger, that's all. But I want you to follow my
instructions carefully. I've trusted you this far and I've got to go the
whole way. This man will say something. You will try to remember word
for word what he says to you, and you're to repeat that message to me."

"That shouldn't be difficult."

McGuire was holding the money in his hand and went on in an abstraction
as though weighing words.

"I want you to go at once to the maple tree. I want you to go now so
that you will be there when this man arrives. You will stand waiting for
him and when he comes you will throw the light into his face, so that
you can see him when you talk to him, and so that he can count this
money and see that the amount is correct. I do not want you to go too
close to him nor to permit him to go too close to you--you are merely to
hand him this package and throw the light while he counts the money.
Then you are to say to him these words, 'Don't forget the blood on the
knife, Hawk Kennedy.'"

"'Don't forget the blood on the knife, Hawk Kennedy,'" murmured Peter in
amazement. And then, "But suppose he wants to tell me a lot of things
you don't want me to know----"

"I'll have to risk that," put in McGuire grimly. "I want you to watch
him carefully, Nichols. Are you pretty quic