'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.
CHAPTER XXXV. THE SIXTH MAN
A STRANGER alighted from the afternoon train at Culbertville. He was a dapper man of rather good appearance, his pointed mustache forming a thin black line beneath his aquiline nose. He glanced leisurely about him and looked with interest at the bus which was loading passengers for its trip across the mountains.
He approached as though to speak to the bus driver. Then, apparently changing his mind, he sat on a bench of the station platform. Even when the bus got under way, he made no move.
The stranger finished a cigarette, then strolled across the street and stopped to light another cigarette beside a parked coupe. Two men were seated in the automobile. The stranger noticed them as he raised his head.
'Pardon me,' he said with a pleasant smile. 'Which direction do I go to find the road called Mountain Pike?'
'Straight ahead,' said the young man at the wheel of the car. 'But if you are going up Mountain Pike you should have taken the bus.'
'I realize that,' replied the stranger. 'But I can take the bus on its next trip.'
'That isn't until late at night - half past eleven, to be exact.'
'I'm in no hurry,' said the stranger with a shrug of his shoulders.
'We are driving in that direction,' said the man at the wheel. 'You are quite welcome to go with us.'
The stranger hesitated.
'You would be overcrowded,' he said.
'Certainly not,' came the reply. 'There's room for three of us. Come along if you wish.'
The stranger accepted the invitation. The man at the side of the driver shifted to the left to allow room.
'My name is Vincent,' said the man at the wheel, 'and this gentleman is Major Weston.'
'Glad to meet you,' said the stranger. 'My name is Garrison Cooper.'
'How far along the pike are you going?'
'I'm not quite sure. I expect to stop off at a road somewhere on the way. Let me think a moment - the name slips my mind.'
'Ridge Road?'
'That's it. How did you happen to name it so quickly?'
Vincent laughed.
'We live near Ridge Road,' he said. 'We have a cottage about half a mile beyond. Would you like to run up and see the place?'
Cooper studied Vincent rather quizzically. The invitation had been given in a friendly, matter-of-fact manner.
'I suppose so,' said Cooper. He seemed a trifle uneasy for the moment.
WHEN the car pulled up in front of the cottage, Cooper was the first to alight.
'He's our man,' whispered Weston.
'I know,' replied Harry. 'We must give him the information.'
They ushered the newcomer into the cottage. The man's eyes expressed interest as he observed the wireless equipment.
'What's this?' he exclaimed. 'A sending station?'
'Yes,' responded Vincent.
'What is its range?'
'Only a few hundred miles. But we can receive from a great distance.'
'Even from Russia,' said Major Weston.
Wheeling about, Cooper stared at the Englishman. His face seemed excited; his hands and arms trembled nervously.
'Why did you say that?' he exclaimed.
'Because I believed it would interest you,' said the Englishman. 'Mr. Cooper, I am your friend. Like you, I have an interest in Russia.' He drew a paper from his pocket and unfolded it before the eyes of the astonished guest.
'This came to me a few months ago,' explained Weston. 'It bears the seal of Prince Samanov.'
Cooper seized the paper and studied it with eager eyes. He examined the seal closely.
'It is the same as the one I received,' he said at length. 'But why have you kept it? I destroyed mine. I suspected that there might be others, but I was not sure.'
'Why did you destroy it?'
'Because I wished no one to see it. I read the message and remembered it. I received a second also. Did you?'
'Yes. I have it here.'
Cooper uttered a sharp cry as he read the second message.
'You were told to come eight days ahead! My second letter set the meeting but one day in advance.
Tonight, instead of Wednesday. Did you go last Tuesday night?'
