the
trees at a snail's pace--there was no clearly defined track in that part
of the bush, and Bryce was taking no unnecessary risks--when he caught
sight of a figure that might or might not be the missing Mr. Cumshaw. He
stopped the car at once and descended to the ground. As has already been
noted earlier in these memoirs, Mr. Bryce, when occasion required it,
for all his huge bulk, could move as agilely and noiselessly as that
pre-eminently silent animal, the domestic cat. He had been so keyed up
by the emotional stresses of the last few days that he threw himself
into the adventure with all the zest of a schoolboy just being
introduced into romance. The man was dodging through the trees a hundred
yards or so ahead, and there was something so furtive about his
movements that Bryce approached with more than his usual caution.

The man halted and glanced swiftly around. Bryce flattened himself
against a handy tree, and fervently hoped that the shadow was thick
enough to conceal him. The other patently had no idea that he was being
followed, for, apparently quite satisfied with his hasty scrutiny, he
dropped on his knees and commenced scraping the earth away with the
point of a knife that had appeared in his hand with the magical
suddenness of a conjuring trick. As the man worked away Bryce peeped out
from his hiding-place and saw then that it was indeed Cumshaw. He
watched fascinated. His heart was thumping away like the piston of a
steam-engine, and some queer unnamed instinct told him that the chase
was drawing to a close. Cumshaw was digging up something of vital
importance; it might be the treasure itself or perhaps the key to it.
But why should Cumshaw have gone so stealthily to work unless--? "Unless
he is going to cut me out of it," said Bryce to himself.

Abruptly the other straightened up and hugged something to his breast.
It was covered with black loam, and at the distance Bryce could not tell
what it was. He slipped stealthily from tree to tree until he had wormed
his noiseless way right up to Cumshaw. Then, seeing that he had his man
cut off should he attempt to escape, he stepped out into the open and
laid a kindly hand on the fugitive's shoulder. Cumshaw turned in a
flash, and, in the excitement of the moment, the earth-covered object
slipped out of his hands and fell on the grass at his feet.

"Where have you been all this time?" Bryce asked jovially.

Cumshaw stared at him in a puzzled way. His face