A quick look passed between the two men, and then the first arrival spoke.
“Of course,” he remarked still more affably. “But the fact of the matter is this. By way of experiment a small syndicate of us have taken over Black Mine. We believe, I trust rightly, that we have stumbled on a method which will enable us to make a large fortune out of tin mining. The information has leaked out, and we have had several people attempting to spy on us. Please wait”—he held up his hand as I began an indignant protest. “Now that I have seen you, I am perfectly sure that you are not one of them. But you will understand that we must take precautions.”
“I would be obliged,” I remarked sarcastically, “if you would tell me how you think I can discover your secret—even granted I knew anything about tin-mining, which I don’t—from the range of a mile.”
“A very natural remark,” he replied. “But, to adopt military terms for a moment, there is such a thing as reconnoitring a position, I believe, before attempting to assault it.”
“Which it seems to me, sir, you have been doing pretty thoroughly this morning,” put in the other.
I rose to my feet angrily.
“Look here,” I said, “I’ve had about enough of this. I’m an Englishman, and this is England. If you will inform me of any law which prohibits me from looking through field-glasses at anything I like for as long as I like, I shall be pleased to listen to you. If, however, you can’t, I should be greatly obliged if you’d both of you go to blazes. I may say that the question of tin-mining leaves me even colder than your presence.”
Once again I saw a quick glance pass between them.
“There is no good losing your temper, sir,” said the first man. “We are speaking in the most friendly way. And since you have no connection with the tin-mining industry there is no need for us to say any more.”
“I certainly have no connection with the tin-mining industry,” I agreed. “But for the sake of argument supposing I had. Is that a crime?”
“In this locality, and from our point of view,” he smiled, “it is. In fact it is worse than a crime: it is a folly. Several people have proved that to their cost. Good morning.”
I watched them go, and my first thought was to pack up and walk straight back to the hotel. And then saner counsels prevailed. That second man—where had he come from? I felt certain now that that flash had been a signal. Or an answer. He must have been lying up in that high ground behind me on the right. And glancing round I could see hundreds of places where men could lie hidden and watch my every movement.
Was it genuine? that was the whole point. Was all this talk about revolutionising tin-mining the truth, or merely an elaborate bluff? There below me was an actual tin mine going full blast, which substantiated their claim. Anyway the main thing was to give them no further cause for suspicion. And in view of the fact that for all I knew unseen eyes might still be watching me, I decided to stop on for a couple of hours, eat my lunch, and then saunter back to Penzance. Moreover, I determined that I wouldn’t use the field-glasses again. I had seen all I could from that distance, so there was no object in rousing further suspicion in the event of my being watched.
Was it genuine? The question went on reiterating itself in my mind. And it was still unanswered when I returned to the hotel about teatime. I had seen no trace of any other watcher; the high ground on each side of me had seemed silent and deserted while I ate my lunch and sketched perfunctorily for an hour or so. Was it genuine? Or did the so-called secret process cloak something far more sinister?
We weighed up the points for and against the second alternative over a round of short ones before dinner.
Points for—Coincidence of dates and the very special precautions taken to prevent outsiders approaching. Point against—Why come to a derelict tin mine in the back of beyond, and incur all the expense of paying miners, when on the face of it a far more accessible and cheaper location could be found?
“In fact,” remarked Drummond, “the matter can only be solved in one way. We will consume one more round of this rather peculiar tipple which that sweet girl fondly imagines is a Martini: we will then have dinner: and after that we will go and see for ourselves.”
“Supposing it is genuine?” I said doubtfully.
“Then, as in the case of Aunt Amelia, we will apologise and withdraw. And if they refuse to accept our apologies and show signs of wishing to roughhouse, Heaven forbid that we should disappoint them.”
We started at nine in the car. There was no moon and we decided to approach from the west, that is, the Land’s End direction.
“We’ll leave the car a mile or so away—hide it if possible,” said Drummond. “And then, Stockton, call up your war lore, for we’re going to have a peerless night creep.”
“Do we scatter, Hugh, or go in a bunch?” asked Jerningham.
“Ordinary patrol, Ted. I’ll lead: you fellows follow in pairs.”
His eyes were gleaming with excitement; and if my own feelings were any criterion we were all of us in the same condition. My doubts of the morning had been replaced by a quite unjustifiable optimism: I felt that we were on the track again at last. Undoubtedly the wish was father to the thought, but as we got into the car after dinner I was convinced that these were no genuine experimenters in tin.
“Carry a revolver, but don’t use it except as a last resort.”
Such were Drummond’s orders, followed by a reminder of the stringent necessity for silence.
“On their part as well as our own,” he said quietly. “If
