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Updated: June 17, 2025
"I didn't," was the sullen answer. "Couldn't expect it with the second barrel, after you'd filled the place with smoke. Wonder why Gladwyne's man gave you the old black powder?" As nearly everybody else used smokeless, this was a point that had aroused Lisle's curiosity, though it was not a matter of much importance.
Nasmyth had provided him with cartridges, but they had somehow been left behind, and on applying to Gladwyne's keeper he had been supplied with ammunition which, it seemed, was out of date. "After all, you have done well enough," his companion resumed. "We'd better get on to our next station it's right across the moor on the high ridge yonder. Don't bother about the birds."
He further betrayed himself by a swift, instinctive glance toward the rows of books behind him, and Lisle had no doubt that the missing pages from George Gladwyne's diary were hidden among them. He waited calmly, sure of his position, while Gladwyne with difficulty pulled himself together. "Have you any proof that I found the cache?" he asked. "I think so," Lisle informed him.
He saw Batley's smile and a somewhat curious look in Gladwyne's face, but the group broke up and he strolled back across the lawn with Bella. "I'm grateful," she said softly. "I was a little afraid at first that I was asking too much of you." Lisle met her glance with a good assumption of surprise. "Grateful? Because I indulged in a rather enjoyable match?" She laughed. "You learn rapidly.
Nasmyth had, no doubt, already reached British Columbia; and it looked as if those indirectly brought together by George Gladwyne's tragic death would be reunited at the scene of it. This was, Lisle reflected, merely the result of a natural sequence of events, but there was for all that something strangely significant about it.
"I've made one long journey in the saddle in Alberta; but you've seen our British Columbian trails. Our cayuses have generally to climb, and as a rule I've used horses only for packing. Still, I'm fond of them; I'd be interested in the thing." Nasmyth nodded. "One difficulty is that there's nothing in the neighborhood that I could try him for pace against except that horse of Gladwyne's."
"May it bring you luck," she wished, with a defiant glance at Batley, who smiled at her as she returned the weapon. Then there was a hush of expectancy. Lisle took his time; a sharp crack, a streak of smoke, and Gladwyne raising his glasses, laughed. "High!" he called. "Top spot!" It was a three of hearts, and Gladwyne's smile lingered for a moment after Lisle fired again.
As they toiled on, badly hampered by their loads, the same thought was in the minds of two of the men a wonder as to how Gladwyne's exhausted party had crossed that portage, unless the water had been lower. It was not difficult to understand how the famishing leader had fallen and lamed himself.
Meeting Nasmyth he walked with him toward Gladwyne's house, where they found the guests assembled on the lawn and Mrs. Gladwyne sitting by a tea-table. One or two young women were standing near and several men had gathered about a mat laid upon the grass fifty yards from where a small target had been set up. Lisle joined Bella Crestwick, who detached herself from the others.
After that they chatted lightly, until they walked into the glow of the camp-fire, and while Bella and Miss Hume plied Millicent with questions and congratulations, Lisle took up Nasmyth's repeating rifle and fired it several times. "That will bring the boys in," he explained. "Now I'll get Miss Gladwyne's supper."
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