nd the Bank that originally owned it had gone
smash about the Land Boom time from what I could gather. I went, but I
missed the place somehow. I went time and again, but it was always like
that 'Lost Mountain' story of Mayne Reid's, though a valley's harder to
find than a mountain you'd think. I couldn't find it anyhow, and that's
about all there is to it."

"Um!" said Mr. Bryce, and he ran his hand softly across his chin. "We
are up against a bigger thing than I thought. I'm hanged if I can see a
glimmer of light anywhere. Is there anything you can suggest?"

Cumshaw did not reply. He was staring straight ahead of him, staring
intently, and little furrows of anxiety marred the serenity of his
forehead. He was peering into the shadows of the trees as if his eyes
were twin searchlights that could cut substance from the gloom. He was
staring so intently that Bryce whirled round, fully convinced that his
friends of the telephone were upon them.

"What's wrong?" he queried in a hoarse whisper. "What are you looking
at?"

"Nothing," said Cumshaw. "I thought I heard something moving, that's
all."

Bryce in his turn peered intently in between the tree-boles, but the
shadows lay thick upon the grass between, and it was difficult to define
even the shapes of the more distant timber. The place was still and
gloomy, full of grim forebodings, like a summer sky in which a storm is
gathering.

"We must have been mistaken," Bryce remarked in his embracing way.
"There doesn't seem to be anyone about."

"Hands up!" snapped a crisp voice, and in the surprise of the moment
Bryce obeyed. Cumshaw had no such intention. He dropped suddenly on to
the ground even as a shot rang out, and a bullet whistled close above
his head. The next instant he was crashing swiftly through the bushes,
spinning down into the gully like a human projectile.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE GATHERING OF THE EAGLES.

At first Bryce could see nothing but the dull gleam of unpolished metal
from the barrel of a revolver which protruded from behind a tree, but a
further scrutiny showed him the dim outlines of a man's figure standing
in that place of gloom and ghosts. The man stepped out from his
hiding-place, even as Bryce watched him, and was followed almost
instantly by another man. They were both somewhere about the same
height, in the neighbourhood of five feet ten. Their features were not
visible, for each of them wore a handkerchief about his face in the