"It was nothing as exciting as that," I said. "Only a slight affair
with a blackberry bush."
He grunted disbelievingly, and, altering our course a shade more
down-stream, swung the head of the boat round so that we came up
nearly alongside the landing-stage. I leaned forward and caught hold
of the chain.
"We get out here," I said. "This is where I live."
He switched off the engine, and with the painter in his hand stepped
up on the planking. I followed, and held the boat steady while he
made her fast to one of the posts.
"We seem to be doing very well so far," he observed cheerfully.
"What happens next?"
"We go up to the house and have some lunch," I replied. "Then you
shall hear the true and remarkable story of how Mr. John Dryden came
into his inheritance."
He thrust his arm through mine. "Come along," he said with a laugh.
"That'll suit me all right. I feel hungry enough to swallow anything
to-day."
We set off up the path, and, rounding the corner, passed through the
iron gate which led into the garden. I was waiting eagerly to see
what effect the first sight of my residence would have upon Bobby,
and it must be admitted that he rose to the occasion. He pulled up,
just as Ross had done, and stood for a moment in silent admiration.
"By Gad! what a clipping place!" he exclaimed at last. "Is this
really yours, Jack?"
"Every stick and stone of it," I said with some pride.
As I spoke there was a sudden scuffle in the doorway, and the huge
figure of Satan bounded out on to the gravel. He had evidently
recognised my voice, for with a joyful boom of welcome he came
cantering across the lawn to meet us.
Bobby received the apparition with commendable coolness.
"You must introduce me to Fido," he said. "I'm very found of pet
dogs."
I performed the ceremony with due state, and in a friendly group we
all three advanced towards the house. As we approached the doorway
Bascomb appeared on the threshold.
"I've brought a friend of mine, Commander Dean, back to lunch with
me," I said. "I suppose there'll be enough duck for two?"
He ran his eye over Bobby, as if speculating on the latter's appetite.
"It ain't a very big 'un," he remarked doubtfully. "If 'e's 'ungry
you'd better 'ave the cold beef as well."
"Bring up everything you've got," I said. "We'll be down as soon as
it's ready."
I piloted Bobby through the hall, and upstairs to my bedroom, where,
with a contented sigh, he tossed his cap on the chest of drawers.
"This is great," he announced. "Who's the sunny-looking sportsman
who let us in?"
"That's my butler," I explained, pouring out some water. "You
mustn't mind his manners. He's a retired prize-fighter and I took
him on with the rest of the fixings."
Bobby broke into a sudden guffaw of laughter that could have been
heard at Pen Mill.
"Well," he observed, "of all the giddy mystery stunts I've ever
butted into this about takes the biscuit."
I nodded sympathetically. "Yes," I said, "I felt like that at first
myself. It's surprising how soon one gets used to it, though."
We washed our hands and proceeded downstairs to the dining-room,
where Bascomb was just bringing in lunch. It was three years since
we had had our last meal together--a riotous dinner in a Harwich
hotel on the night that peace was declared. I was dying to know what
had happened to all the good fellows who had shared that
unforgettable banquet, and while we attacked the duck I kept asking
innumerable questions that Bobby answered to the best of his ability.
In return I told him of one or two little adventures which had helped
to brighten my own monotonous life, but it was not until we had
finished our coffee and lighted up our cigars that we really
approached the true business of the day.
"Make yourself quite comfortable," I said, pushing him across the
port. "You have got to listen to a long yarn, and I don't want any
interruptions while I'm telling it."
He filled his glass, and, getting up from his seat, settled himself
in a restful attitude on the sofa.
"I'm in no hurry," he observed contentedly. "I could stop here for a
month if it wasn't for that blessed appointment."
Had it been possible, nothing would have pleased me more than to let
him hear the whole story, for I knew well that when it came to a
tight corner no one could have a more loyal and trustworthy friend.
For the present, however, until things began to shape themselves a
little more clearly, I was still determined that anything which
concerned Christine and her uncle should remain my own secret. By
letting out the truth, even to Bobby, I might be running her into all
sorts of danger, and no thought of my own safety would have induced
me to take the risk.
Under the circumstances, the best plan seemed to be to repeat the
same version of my adventures that I had given to Ross. So, starting
with the arrival of Mr. Drayton's cable at Leixoes, I plunged
straight into the story of my interview in Bedford Row, and of my
eventful journey back to the docks. I went on to explain how Ross
and I had come down to the island, and made the acquaintance of
Bascomb and Dr. Manning. I described my first impressions of both,
and finished up by giving him a full report of my conversation with
the former and the various details which I had been able to gather
with regard to my late uncle's peculiar habits.
Lying back, with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he listened to me in
absolute silence. Even when I had finished he remained for a moment
in the same attitude, then, swinging himself up into a sitting
position, he reached out for his glass and drained off the contents.
"I congratulate you, Jack," he said. "It's a damned good yarn, and
you told it very nicely."
"Well, what do you make of it?" I enquired. "That's the important
point."
He puffed thoughtfully at his cigar.
"I don't want to say anything rude about your relations," he
observed, "but you certainly seem to have struck a peach in the way
of uncles."
"It looks as if somebody had disliked him," I agreed. "All the same,
I don't see why they should work off their spite on me."
Bobby brooded over the problem with a meditative frown.
"I don't imagine it's spite," he began. "People generally have a
pretty good reason when they start committing murder. It's much more
likely that your uncle was in with some swindling crowd who managed
to bring off a big coup. He probably did the rest out of their share
of the boodle, and now he's dead they're trying to collect it."
"They won't get anything by slaughtering me," I objected.
"How do you know?" he demanded. "From what this lawyer Johnny told
you there's a whole heap of stuff still unaccounted for. It must be
somewhere. Why shouldn't it be here?"
"Here!" I echoed.
"Yes, here on the island, stowed away--buried. A man doesn't go and
invest a lot of stolen money--not unless he's a damned fool."
I drew in a long breath. "By Jove, that's a notion!" I said. "It
never occurred to me."
"No, it wouldn't," he returned kindly. "You were always a bit slow
in the up-take. It's just as well you've got an intelligent friend
to look after you."
There was a short pause while I did some rapid thinking.
"Bobby," I said, "do you know anything about this fellow Manning?"
He tossed away the stump of his cigar and helped himself to another.
"I thought that was coming," he said drily. "Yes, I know several
things about him, and one is that according to your own account he's
mighty anxious to get hold of Greensea Island."
"I told you his yarn," I interrupted. "He says he wants to start a
yachting club."
"Funny he hasn't mentioned it to anyone down here. I suppose he was
afraid somebody would pinch the idea."
"Who is he?" I asked. "Where does he come from?"
Bobby struck a match, and with some care lighted his cigar.
"He is one of those mysterious gents that nobody seems to know
anything about. According to what I've heard, he rolled up here last
summer and bought _The Penguin_, an old barge that used to belong to
a fellow called Collinson. He gave out that he wanted to go in for
wild fowling, and, to do the blighter justice, he certainly is a
first-class hand with a gun."
"It sounds to me as if you didn't like him," I said.
"I can't stick him at any price. All the same, he's very well in
with the people down here. Quite a leading light among the sporting
crowd. He belongs to the club at Shalston, and he's always ready to
take a hand in anything that's going on."
"What's your objection to him?" I asked.
"Nothing much. I just think he's a wrong 'un."
"But why?" I persisted. "You must have some reason."
Bobby shook his head. "Not the least necessary. I can tell a
scoundrel directly I see him."
"Well, I've got the same sort of feeling about him," I admitted.
"Still, that's hardly a proof that he had anything to do with shoving
me into the dock."
"You must try to look at it in a broad light," said Bobby
encouragingly. "If he isn't up to some dirty business why did he
make you that offer for the island? You can take it from me that his
yarn about starting a yachting club is all bunkum. We've got two
here already. Then there's another thing I don't like, and that's
his suggestion that you should get rid of Bascomb. It's quite likely
he's got some blackguard up his sleeve that he hopes to land you
with." He reached out for the decanter and filled up his empty
glass. "Besides," he added, "there don't seem to be any other
competitors. Who the devil else has taken the faintest interest in
your affairs?"
Not being able to answer this question, I rose from my chair and took
a pace or two up and down the room. I found a curious comfort in the
fact that Bobby shared my views about Manning. In dealing with de
Roda I felt like a man who has one hand tied behind his back, but
when it came to tackling the doctor there were no such unfortunate
restrictions. The more suspicious his conduct appeared, the better
pleased I should be. A way had to be found by which I could get to
the bottom of the mystery without injuring Christine, and, so far,
this was the only opening which suggested the least prospect of
success.
"I believe you've hit it," I said, coming back to my seat. "I must
take steps to improve my acquaintance with Dr. Manning. He seems to
be worth cultivating."
"Well, go easy," returned Bobby. "If we're really on the right lay
he's not the sort of chap to play the fool with."
"All the more reason for making the first move," I said. "'When in
doubt, lead trumps.' That was Nelson's motto, and it's good enough
for me."
"It's a sound plan," admitted Bobby. "The only thing is whether
you're fit to be trusted by yourself. I think you had better lie low
until I can come around and lend you a hand."
"I don't want to drag you in, Robert," I said. "You did your bit in
the Great War."
"It doesn't matter a damn what you want," was the crushing reply.
"You don't suppose I'm going to let you be wiped out while you've got
a cellar full of port like this?" He paused. "The worst of it is,"
he added. "I am due at Harwich to-morrow, and they will probably
keep me there for at least a week."
"I expect to struggle through a week," I said hopefully. "After all,
there's Bascomb and the dog."
He eyed me with some mistrust. "If you take my advice," he said
slowly, "you'll be precious careful what you do. Things look
devilish ugly, and I know what you're like when there's any chance of
a scrap about. I should hate to come back and find you with your
throat cut."
"It would be still more annoying for me," I pointed out. "You
needn't think I'm going to hunt for trouble. If I see the chance of
having a nice little chat with our friend Manning I shall take it,
but I shall try to remember that mine's a valuable life, if only for
the sake of my friends."
He nodded approvingly, and, glancing at his watch, hoisted himself up
from the sofa.
"Time I was off," he announced. "That chap who's waiting for me will
be tearing his back hair if I don't come along soon."
We got our caps from the bedroom, and, leaving the house, made our
way down to the landing-stage. Satan stalked after us with great
dignity, and, following his usual custom, remained standing grimly at
attention while we cast off our painter and pushed out from the bank.
"I like that dog," said Bobby. "He looks thoroughly efficient. I
put more faith in him than in you or the butler."
"So do I," I said candidly. "And I shouldn't be a bit surprised if
Dr. Manning felt the same."
We ran rapidly across to the jetty at Pen Mill, bringing up alongside
a timber barge which had just come in on the flood tide. Bobby's
appointment was at Beddingfield, a small village half a mile inland,
and, having nothing particular to do, I said I would walk with him as
far as the top of the hill.
"Go slow," was his parting advice, "and don't forget to send me a
wire if you find yourself in a tight corner."
"Where shall I send it to?" I asked.
"The Naval Office, Harwich, will always find me. I shall be pretty
busy, but you can count on my showing up within three hours of
getting a message."
"That's comforting," I said, shaking his hand. "Whatever happens you
ought to be in time for the inquest."
I must admit, however, that, in spite of this flippancy, there was a
very real feeling of relief inside me as I strolled back down the
slope. I had been quite ready, if necessary, to play this game out
by myself, but the knowledge that I had a friend like Bobby just
round the corner would certainly be a huge addition to my peace of
mind. In a case of emergency he was not the sort to stick at
trifles, and, from all I could see of the matter, that was exactly
the kind of pal that I was most likely to require.
The suggestion that my uncle might have buried the rest of his money
on the island was one that appealed to me immensely. There is always
something stimulating in the idea of a hidden treasure, and, apart
from that, it fitted in beautifully with the various other features
of the situation. It explained away that regrettable absence of
capital to which Mr. Drayton had called my attention, and it also
went far to account for the presence of de Roda and for the
embarrassment which Christine had shown in trying to warn me of my
danger.
As to where Manning came in, I was still puzzled. That he had some
connection with the de Rodas was obvious, but from what I had seen of
him, I was strongly inclined to believe that he was playing a private
and separate game of his own, in which Christine and her uncle were
only partly concerned. Anyhow, I was now convinced that the most
promising place in which to hunt for the key of the mystery was on
board _The Penguin_, and that the quicker I got on to the job the
more likely I was to find it.
With this idea in my mind I returned to the jetty, where the faithful
Jimmy was patiently awaiting my arrival. The fact that I was a
friend of Bobby's had evidently sent me up several pegs in his
estimation, for he greeted me with a respectful salute which I was
careful to acknowledge.
"I am much obliged to you, James," I said, presenting him with a
shilling. "It's a great thing to have somebody that one can really
depend on."
He looked up at me gravely.
"You can trust me, guv'nor," he observed. "I ain't the sort to let
yer down--not if there's anything yer wants done."
"I am sure of that," I said. "And what's more, I shan't forget it."
Settling myself in my seat, I sculled off at a leisurely pace down
the creek. My thoughts were still busy with the owner of _The
Penguin_, and as I came out into the open I cast an instinctive
glance up the estuary in the direction of the barge. What I saw
pulled me up short in the middle of my stroke. A hundred yards away,
and moving rapidly towards me, was a small motor-boat containing a
single occupant. I recognised the latter instantly. It was Manning
himself, and with a queer feeling of suspicion at this remarkably
opportune appearance of his I swung the dinghy round and waited his
approach.
He came up alongside, and, cutting off his engine, waved me a
friendly greeting.
"I was right after all then," he said. "I thought I saw you going
ashore about twenty minutes ago."
"I was just seeing back a pal of mine who's been lunching with me," I
said. "Dean, of the Coast Patrol. I think you have met him, haven't
you?"
He nodded easily. "Oh, yes--several times. An uncommonly good
fellow from all accounts. I should like to know him better."
I thought of Bobby's remarks on the same subject, and it was as much
as I could manage to keep a straight face.
"He was my skipper during the war," I explained. "I had no idea he
was down in these parts. We ran across each other accidentally on
the jetty this morning."
I was watching him closely while I spoke, but if my news was in any
way unwelcome he certainly managed to conceal the fact.
"Just what you wanted," he said, steadying the dinghy with his hand.
"It must be precious lonely for you, tucked away on that island all
by yourself. I have been meaning to run across again and look you
up, only I thought I had better give you time to settle in first."