imer was a bit suspicious, he agreed to dine at Parelli's and hear
what the fellow had to say.

"Well, you know the rest of that little incident. If it hadn't been
for you there's not the faintest doubt that Latimer would have
copped it all right, and I can tell you he's by way of being rather
particularly grateful. I was specially instructed to send you a
message to that effect next time I was writing.

"What the connection is between your crowd and these Germans I can't
exactly make out. Of course if you're right in your idea about the
chap with the scar spying on you in London it's perfectly obvious
they're working together in some way. At the same time I'm quite sure
that Latimer knows nothing about it. The reason he came down to look
at the hut on Friday was because a report about it had been sent to
him by one of his men--he has two fellows working under him--and he
thought it might have something to do with the Germans. He described
the way you had caught him quite frankly, and told me how he'd had to
invent a lie about the Surveyor in order to get out of it.

"Exactly what he means to do next I don't know. He has got some plan
on, and I've a notion he wants me to help him--at least he sounded
me pretty plainly last night as to whether I'd be game to lend him a
hand. I need hardly tell you I jumped at the idea. It seems to me our
only possible chance of finding out anything. I am to see him or hear
from him tomorrow, and directly I know what's in the wind I'll either
write to you or come and look you up.

"Joyce will tell you all about George and McMurtrie. If they aren't
both up to some kind of particularly dirty mischief I'll eat my whole
wardrobe. We must talk it over thoroughly when we meet.

"I'm longing to see you again, and hear all about the work and what's
been going on down there.

"So long, old son,

"Yours as ever,

"TOMMY."

I was just making out the last words, when Joyce emerged from the
cabin, carrying some tea on a tray.

"Here you are, Neil," she said. "I have cut you only two slices of
bread and butter, because I don't want you to spoil your supper.
There's cold pheasant and peas and new potatoes."

I pulled out the bottle of champagne from my pocket. "If they're as
new as this wine," I observed, "they ought to be delicious."

Joyce accepted my contribution, and after reading the label, placed it
carefully on the floor of the well. "Sarcon et fils," she repeated. "I
always thoug