Major Weston sat in front of the open fireplace, watching the sparks fly upward as he puffed at a massive meerschaum pipe. He turned suddenly as the door opened. Harry Vincent entered.
"Ah!" said the major. "I was just wondering when you would return. How is Bruce Duncan?"
"He seemed better after I got him home. The Hindu servant was waiting there and took charge of him. I think he will improve quickly. It was impossible to keep him here."
"I agree with you. This place is too near the scene of his terrible adventure. We have enough trouble ahead of us without the added responsibility of a sick man."
"I was wise to take him home to-day. To-morrow will be Sunday — heavy traffic on the road. I don't like those once-a-week drivers," said Harry.
"You were away fourteen hours. You left at seven in the morning; it's only a few minutes past nine now."
Harry Vincent picked up the ear phones and listened a while. Then he tapped a brief message.
"Reporting my return," Harry explained to Weston. Then:
"Well," he said, "we have our instructions. Nothing to do until Tuesday. Then intercept the sixth man — if possible. I hope we have the same luck that Duncan and I ran into when we discovered you."
"By the way," said the Englishman, "you said that you expected to pick up special instructions in New York. Did you receive them?"
"That's right!" exclaimed Harry. "An envelope was waiting for me at Duncan's house. Abdul gave it to me. Here it is."
Harry read the letter carefully, then tossed the paper into the fire. The Englishman noted that it turned over as it fell, but he did not observe writing on either side. The fact struck him as curious, yet he made no comment.
"Important instructions," said Harry. "First, no more wireless messages are necessary until Tuesday. We must be careful in our actions. We are to use our own judgment in finding the sixth man."
"Good," remarked the Englishman approvingly.
"If we find the man," resumed Harry, "I shall report immediately. But we must not, under any circumstances, tell him of Bruce Duncan's miraculous escape."
"Why not?"
"It sounds too incredible. Our story is simply this: Duncan and I met you by chance and explained matters. We decided not to visit the meeting place at the time appointed. Duncan, acting independently, disappeared. We do not know where he is. We cannot understand it.
"We are afraid that he visited the ruins at midnight, yet we can scarcely believe that he could have been so foolhardy as to have gone alone. We are acting cautiously; hence we have not investigated. We know that danger lurks, and we are waiting for the crucial time before we take a single step. That time will be Wednesday — the day originally set for the authentic meeting."
"Very well," agreed the Englishman. "I must confess that I would not have believed Duncan's story under ordinary circumstances. The idea seems to me to be the correct one. Let us set our minds to it; in all our conversation, we must speak of Duncan as one who has disappeared."
* * *
Both men considered the matter mentally, and their thoughts concurred. After all, Bruce Duncan had actually disappeared. Their story was one of fact. The theory that Duncan might have gone, prepared for danger, to the meeting place was a correct deduction. To say that he had not returned would certainly be a curbing influence upon the sixth man. It would make him quite willing to abide by the wishes of Vincent and Weston, to follow any instructions that they might receive.
"I wonder why Bruce Duncan does not return," remarked the Englishman casually as he lighted his pipe.
Vincent smiled. The major was accustoming himself to the story already. Vincent opened the front door a trifle. The room was smoky from the fire.
"What have you been doing all day?" he asked the Englishman.
"I tramped down to the village," said Weston. "A long hike it was. I was there most of the day."
"That was a mistake," observed Harry. "You might have been seen."
"By whom? I told my name to no one. You and Duncan went to the village frequently, didn't you?"
"Yes; but our case was different. We established a reason for being here. We even had Pennsylvania licenses on our car. You are here alone, with no reason for your presence. You are obviously a Britisher. The natives are apt to talk about you."
"Right-o," said the Englishman. "I never considered it in that light. What shall I do? Stay around here?"
"I guess that's the only thing to do. You might climb Rocky Summit to-morrow. That's the mountain from which Duncan and I observed the old ruined house."
"Topping idea," declared Weston. "By the way, what do you suppose has become of our friend Duncan?"
"I don't know," said Vincent, repressing a smile at the major's persistency in sticking to the trumped-up story.
"What plan do you have concerning the sixth man?" questioned Major Weston. "Shall we watch the station or the bus?"
"We'll go downtown in the afternoon," declared Harry. "He may come in on the early train, as you did. If we have no luck, you ride on the bus from the station. I'll take you downtown in time for the last trip. You will probably not be noticed that late at night. Try to open conversation with any passenger who seems likely to be the man. If he is on the bus, he will get off at Ridge Road. You can get off, too; I will be waiting there."
"An excellent plan. Perhaps I can discover the chap and begin negotiations on the bus."
"That's the very idea I was suggesting."
* * *
Harry rose and walked toward the door. Major Weston followed him. The two men stood on the porch, breathing the cool mountain air.
"How do you like this district, Major Weston?" inquired Harry.
"The place is delightful," replied the Englishman. "This has been an enjoyable week — but for our worries over Bruce Duncan — and I am glad to be here. Tomorrow I shall climb Rocky Summit. Will you accompany me?"
"I had better stay here," replied Harry. "There's another reason why I am sorry you went to the village. One of us should be here all along, on account of the wireless."
"I believe you are right. I should not have gone to the village. In fact, it was after dark when I started back. A man gave me a lift."
"Who was he — a native?"
"I don't believe so. I couldn't see his face in the dark. He talked as though he came from the city. He brought me along Mountain Pike as far as our road."
"You didn't tell him where you were staying?" Vincent's voice seemed anxious.
"No, indeed. I merely mentioned that I was stopping at a house near by."
Harry Vincent became suddenly alert. He drew a flashlight from his pocket and turned a glare of light on the ground in front of the porch.
"What is it?" asked Weston.
"Thought I heard something out there," replied Harry. "I must have been mistaken. It sounded like a crackling twig."
"Probably some small animal."
"I suppose so. The woods are full of them."
Harry pocketed the flashlight. Accompanied by Major Weston, he reentered the cottage. Harry closed the door behind him.