* * * * *

I did not tell Sir Jim that my spirit had forgotten itself so utterly as
to call him. It was quite unnecessary, as matters turned out, to "give
myself away" to this extent. For, you see, it was not my call that
brought him. It was Roger's.

As Shelagh Leigh was my best friend, so was, and is, Jim Courtenaye
Roger Fane's. All the first part of Roger's life tragedy was known to my
"forty-fourth cousin four times removed." For years Roger had given him
all his confidence. The ex-cowboy had even advised him in his love
affair with Shelagh, to "go on full steam ahead, and never mind
breakers"--(alias Pollens). This being the case, it had seemed to Roger
unfair not to trust his chum to the uttermost end. He had not intended
to mention me as his accomplice; but evidently cowboys' wits are as
quick as their lassoes. Jim guessed at my part in the business,
thinking, maybe--that only the sly sex could hit upon such a Way Out.
Anyhow, he was far from shocked; in fact, deigned to approve of me for
the first time, and hearing how I had planned to restore the stolen
heirlooms, roared with laughter.

Roger, conscience-stricken because my secret had leaked out with his,
wished to atone by telling me that his friend had scented the whole
truth. Jim Courtenaye, however, urged him against this course. He
reckoned the Barlow twins more formidable than Roger and I had thought
them, and insisted that he should be a partner in our game of Bluff.
Only, he wished to be a silent partner till the right time came to
speak. Or that was the way he put it. His real reason, as he boldly
confessed afterward, was that, if I knew he was "in it," I'd be sure to
make a "silly fuss"!

It was arranged between him and Roger that he should motor from
Courtenaye Coombe to Dudworth Cove, put up his car at the small hotel,
and inconspicuously approach the Barlows' farm on foot. In some quiet
spot which he would guarantee to find, he was to "lurk" and await
developments. If help were wanted, he would be there to give it. If not,
he would peacefully remove himself, and I need never know that he had
been near the place.

All the details of this minor plot were well mapped out, and the only
one that failed (not being mapped out) was a tyre of his Rolls-Royce
which stepped on a nail as long as Jael's. Wishing to do the trick
alone, Jim had taken no chauffeur; and he wasn't as expert at pumping up
tyres as at breaking in bro