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skin when you mention it. That seems to be something to go on, and then there was that incident in the smoking-room.”

“When you were reading the paper?” he asked. “I couldn’t make that out. Did you notice anything suspicious about it?”

“Of course I was in a suspicious mood,” I admitted, “but it struck me as a singularly rude thing to do to snatch the paper out of my hand like that. His remark about Hilderman’s precious view was very weak. I think there was something behind it.”

“What?” asked Dennis.

“It may have been that there was a letter, or something in the way of a paper, which he didn’t want me to see laid inside the paper; but there was another curious point about it. There was a page torn out. I had just noticed this and was on the point of making some silly remark about it when Fuller leaned right across you and took the thing from me, as you saw.”

“If the page he didn’t want you to see was torn out, there was no chance of your seeing it,” Dennis argued, logically enough.

“No,” I agreed, “but after your exhibition, if he had anything to conceal he may have been afraid of my even seeing that the page was torn out.”

“What do you imagine the missing page can possibly have contained?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, and thought hard for a minute. “By Jove, Den!” I cried suddenly, “I believe I’ve got it. This takes us back to Garnesk’s idea of a wireless invention causing all the trouble. We think we have reason to believe that Fuller may have stolen the dog. We also think we have reason to believe that one of his yacht-hands is what you called ‘a mathematical master.’ Now, suppose the paper had got hold of this and printed an illustration of the mysterious invention or perhaps a photograph of the mysterious inventor?”

“And the inventor, knowing that we should accuse him of blinding Miss McLeod and making off with her dog, the moment we could identify him, tears out the offending illustration in case either we or anyone else in the neighbourhood should see it? He admitted, by the way, that he never went into port if he could help it.”

“Well, anyway,” I said, “we’ll have a look for the paper and find the missing page.”

“You noticed the date?” Dennis asked, anxiously.

“Oh! it was this week’s issue,” I replied.

“Do they take it at the house?” he inquired, again with a note of anxiety.

“Not that I know of, but we’ll rake one up somewhere, don’t you fret. And, I say, this is a fine way to welcome a visitor; you haven’t even said how-do to your host and hostess. I’m most awfully sorry.”

“Don’t be an ass, Ronnie,” said Dennis, cheerfully. “With the utmost respect, as you barrister chaps would say, I hadn’t noticed your departure from the requirements of conventional hospitality. I wouldn’t have missed this for all the world and a bit of Bond Street.”

So then we hurried to the house with a nervous energy, which spoke eloquently to our state of suppressed excitement.

“All the same,” Den muttered dolefully, as we hurried down the stable path, “it’s going to be what the Americans would call ‘some’ wireless invention that can plant a grown-up mountain in the middle of an innocent river in the twinkling of an eyelash.”

“It is, indeed, old fellow,” I agreed, “but don’t let us worry about that. We’ll get in and see Myra and the General, and then have a look round for the Pictures—the paper you were looking at.”

We found Myra sitting on the verandah and wondering what on earth had kept us, and if we had changed our minds and gone straight back south with Garnesk.

“I’m most awfully sorry, darling,” I apologised. “It’s all my fault, of course. We went to Glasnabinnie, and since then I’ve been showing Dennis the river and generally forgetting my duties as deputy host.”

“What did you go to the river for?” Myra asked, suspiciously.

“Oh! just to have a look round, you know, dear. It’s a very nice river,” I replied, airily.

“Ronnie, dear, please,” she said gently, laying her hand on my arm and turning her veiled and shaded face to mine, “please don’t joke about it. I can’t bear to think of you running risks there.”

I looked at my beautiful, blind darling, and a pang shot through me.

“God knows I’m not joking about it, dearest,” I said sadly.

“I know you weren’t really, Ronnie. But, please, oh! please, keep away from the river.”

“Very well, dear,” I promised, “I will, unless an urgent duty takes me there. We must solve this mystery somehow, and it may mean my going to the river. But I promise not to run any unnecessary risks.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him and see that he takes care of himself, Miss McLeod,” said Dennis, coming to the rescue.

“Thank you, Mr. Burnham,” the girl replied, “but you know it applies to you as well. You must look after yourself also.”

“By the way, dear,” I asked, changing the subject, “have you a copy of this week’s Pictures?”

“I’m afraid not,” she answered. “Must it be the Pictures? I’ve just been looking at another illustrated paper.”

“Looking at what?” I cried, jumping to my feet. “Darling, who’s talking about running risks?”

“Oh, it’s all right, dear,” she assured me. “I got Mary to bring my dark-room lamp down to the den and just glanced at the pictures by the red light. But I won’t do it again, if it alarms you, dear. All the same, I’m quite sure I could see by daylight.”

“You promised Garnesk you wouldn’t till you heard from him, darling,” I urged. “It might be very dangerous, so please don’t for my sake.”

“Very well, then,” Myra sighed, “I’ll try to be good. But I hope he’ll write soon.”

“Where do you think we could get a copy of the paper?” I asked shortly.

“If it’s frightfully important, dear, you might get one in Glenelg, and, failing that, Doctor Whitehouse would lend you his. I know he takes it in. Why are you so keen about it?”

“We’ll go into the den and tell you everything in a minute or two, dear,” I promised. “Is there any objection to my sending Angus in to the doctor?”

“None whatever,” Myra declared, “he can go now if you like.”

So after I had despatched Angus into the village with strict instructions not to come back without a copy of the paper if he valued his life, we all adjourned to Myra’s den, and my friend and I told her in detail everything that had happened. About an hour and a half later Angus returned with the paper. I took it from him with a hurried word of thanks and nervously turned over the pages.

“Ah! here’s a page I didn’t see,” I exclaimed excitedly, but the only thing on the whole page was a photograph of a new dancer appearing in London. Without waiting for me to do so, Dennis leaned over me and turned the page over with a quick jerk of the wrist.

“Phew!” I exclaimed involuntarily, and Dennis gave a long, low whistle.

“Oh! what is it? Tell me!” pleaded Myra, anxiously.

“It’s a photograph of our friend Fuller,” I replied slowly, in a voice that shook with excitement. “And he’s wearing court dress, and underneath the photograph are the words ‘Baron Hugo von Guernstein, Secretary of the Military Intelligence Department of the Imperial German General Staff.’”

CHAPTER XVI. DISCLOSES CERTAIN FACTS.

“There’s no doubt about it,” I remarked as soon as we had partially recovered from our surprise. “That’s Fuller right enough.”

“Oh! there’s no doubt it’s our man,” said Dennis emphatically. “Even if we had not the evidence of the torn page to corroborate it, the likeness is perfect.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “but what do you think his game can be? I’m coming round to Garnesk’s wireless theory.”

“Whatever it is, we’ve stumbled on something of real importance this time. We must find out what it is and show it up at once.”

“I hope you’ll take care,” said Myra anxiously. “I shouldn’t mind so much if I could be with you to help, but it’s dreadful to sit here and know you are in danger and not be able to do anything at all.”

“I’m very glad you can’t, darling,” I said heartily, as I threw my arm round her shoulders. “I don’t want you to come rushing into these dangers, whatever they may be. In a way I am glad you are not able to join us, because I know how difficult it would be to stop you if you were.”

“I suppose this is all one affair,” she said doubtfully. “You don’t think this is something quite different from the green ray? It might be two quite separate things, you know.”

“I don’t think we are likely to meet with two such interesting problems in such a remote locality unless they are connected with each other, Miss McLeod, and especially as everything else apart from the photograph of Baron von Guernstein points to Fuller as the culprit. I think we can take it that in solving one mystery we provide the solution to the other.”

“I quite agree with you, Dennis,” I said, “but what I am worrying about now is, what we are going to do.”

“The first thing you must do is to dress for dinner, and not let anyone imagine there is anything untoward about,” Myra advised. “And please don’t tell father you have been lunching with one of the Kaiser’s principal spies, if that’s what the Baron’s title really means. I would much rather you said nothing to him at all about it for the present, and in any case you must have something definite in mind as to your plans before you put the matter to him. If you tell him you don’t know what to do about it he will be in a dreadful state. He is very far from well, and all this business has told on him dreadfully.”

“That is very excellent advice, Miss McLeod,” Dennis agreed warmly. “Ronald, we’ll go and disguise ourselves as ordinary, undisturbed human beings and hide our fears and doubts behind the breastplate of a starched shirt. Come along.”

So Dennis dragged me away, and then, realising his indiscretion, allowed me to return to my fiancée “just for two minutes, old fellow.”

Dinner was a curious meal, though not quite so strange as the meal the General and I had together the night, less than a week before, that Myra lost her sight.

I hope I shall never live through a week like that again. Even now, as I look back, I cannot believe that it all happened in seven days. It still seems to have been something like seven months at the very least.

We had one thing in our favour as we sat down to the table; we all had a common object in view. We were each of us determined to forget the green ray for a moment. Fortunately the old man took an immediate fancy to Dennis and that brightened me considerably. There are few things so pleasant as to see those whose opinion you value getting on with your friends. Only once, and that after Mary McNiven had come to take poor Myra away, did the subject of the green ray crop up.

“Mr. Burnham knows about it all, I suppose?” the General asked.

“I’ve told him everything, and Garnesk and I went over the whole thing with him before the train went.”

“Good!” said the old man emphatically. “Excellent fellow Garnesk—excellent; in fact, I don’t know when I’ve met such a thundering good chap. No new developments, I suppose?”

I hesitated. I could not have brought myself to lie to him, and in view of the startling complications with which we had so

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