irect north runs at right angles to
direct east, if you want to know. However, when we've got our north line
we follow it for twelve feet, and after that we dig. Quite possibly
Bradby made some slight variation--he wouldn't have the necessary
instruments to make his figures absolutely exact--but, as I've said
before, I don't see that we can go very far wrong. Whatever variation
there is won't matter much once we start digging. If we allow a foot or
so in all directions we'll be on the safe side. What do you think,
Cumshaw?"

"Well," he said slowly, "it sounds feasible enough, and if it turns out
as well in practice as it does in theory I'll have nothing to say
against it."

"There's only one way of making sure," I said tentatively.

Moira turned on me. "What's that?" she asked with unfeigned interest.

"Trying and seeing for ourselves," I answered. "Here we are, right on
the very spot, so why not put it to the test?"

Neither of them answered. A queer, speculative look crept into Moira's
eyes and Cumshaw paled a little beneath his tan. It was the crucial
moment of the expedition, and the mere adoption of my suggestion meant
that in the next few minutes we would be face to face with either
failure or success--none of us knew which. While we were in ignorance
there was always room for hope, but the instant our investigation was
concluded the matter would be settled for good or for evil.

"Well," I asked, "what about it?"

"I suppose we've got to do it some time," Cumshaw said slowly. "We might
as well do it first as last. What do you say, Miss Drummond?"

"Ye-es," said Moira in a half-whisper. "Ye-es, I suppose we had better."

"And you, Carstairs?"

"Nothing venture, nothing win," I quoted gaily. "Anyway it's my
suggestion, and I'm not going to fall down on it. I didn't bring the
spade along just for the fun of carrying it."

"Go on then," Cumshaw said.

Then commenced the operation of locating the position of the treasure.
As the one most used to such things I snapped open my pocket-compass,
took a line from the mouldering ruin that had once been the threshold of
the hut, and proceeded to calmly measure off the requisite distance. The
others followed my movements with breathless interest; Cumshaw's cheeks
were still pale, partly from the stress of emotion and partly, I fancy,
because he feared that, even at the last, Fate would play a trick on us
and bring the work of two generations to nothing. Two little