on the same key as T, @ is on H's key, 3 means
E, and so on. When Bryce worked it out he simply pressed down the figure
lever and left it down, and now to reverse the process all we've got to
do is to hit the keys these signs are on and leave the lever alone.
Simple, isn't it?"

"Very," said Cumshaw.

"Get it all out, Jim, quick!" said Moira with feminine impatience.

I did. I pressed 2 and I got W, and so on all along the keyboard, and
when I had finished I pulled the sheet out and handed it to them. "Read
it out, Moira," I said. "It's your turn."

"'When the Lone Tree, the hut door and the rising sun are in line
measure seven feet east. Then face direct north, draw another line at
right angles to previous one, extending for twelve feet. Dig then.'"

"If it hadn't been for you," said Cumshaw, "we wouldn't have found it. I
congratulate you," and he held out his hand to me.

"Rubbish!" I said. "It was all a lucky accident." But all the same I
took the proffered hand.

"We can go right on with it now," Moira cried joyously. "There's nothing
to stop us."

"Only that we've got to find the valley yet," said Cumshaw gloomily. "My
father made several attempts but couldn't locate it."

"You've got to bear in mind," I told them, "that we've got some
information your father hadn't, strange though it seems."

"And that?" Cumshaw queried quickly.

"We're looking for a valley that's got a lone tree overlooking it. Your
father didn't seem to be aware of that."

Cumshaw seized the paper and read it through quickly. "By the Lord
Harry, you're right, Carstairs! That's one piece of information he
didn't have. If he had known that when he went after the gold himself
he'd have got it."

"Maybe he would," I said doubtfully.

"You don't seem too sure of it, Carstairs," Cumshaw remarked, with a
sidelong glance at Moira.

"No more I am," I told him. "I don't like our chances either."

"But," he protested with a puzzled indrawing of his eyebrows, "as far as
we're concerned it's as easy as falling off a log."

"Just as easy," I agreed, "providing our friends the enemy don't
interfere. They don't seem to be the kind of men who rest on their oars,
that is if we can judge anything from their past exploits."

"You're right there, Carstairs," Cumshaw said. "I never gave them a
thought, but I see now that they're likely to prove a pretty active
menace to our safety."

"That," I said, turning to Moira, "cuts out all possibility