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Pothunters

<h2> CHAPTER XVII 'WE'LL PROCEED TO SEARCH FOR THOMSON IF HE BE ABOVE THE GROUND' </h2> 'How sweet the moonlight sleeps on yonder haystack,' observed Charteris poetically, as he and Tony, accompanied by Swift and Daintree, made their way across the fields to Parker's Spinney. Each carried a bicycle lamp, and at irregular intervals each broke into piercing yells, to the marked discomfort of certain birds roosting in the neighbourhood, who burst noisily from the trees, and made their way with visible disgust to quieter spots. 'There's one thing,' said Swift, 'we ought to hear him if he yells on a night like this. A yell ought to travel about a mile.' 'Suppose we try one now,' said Charteris. 'Now. A concerted piece, andante in six-eight time. Ready?' The next moment the stillness of the lovely spring night was shattered by a hideous uproar. 'R.S.V.P.,' said Charteris to space in general, as the echoes died away. But there was no answer, though they waited several minutes on the chance of hearing some sound that would indicate Jim's whereabouts. 'If he didn't hear that,' observed Tony, 'he can't be within three miles, that's a cert. We'd better separate, I think.' They were at the ploughed field by Parker's Spinney now. 'Anybody got a coin?' asked Daintree. 'Let's toss for directions.' Charteris produced a shilling. 'My ewe lamb,' he said. 'Tails.' Tails it was. Charteris expressed his intention of striking westward and drawing the Spinney. He and Tony made their way thither, Swift and Daintree moving off together in the opposite direction. 'This is jolly rum,' said Tony, as they entered the Spinney. 'I wonder where the deuce the man has got to?' 'Yes. It's beastly serious, really, but I'm hanged if I can help feeling as if I were out on a picnic. I suppose it's the night air.' 'I wonder if we shall find him?' 'Not the slightest chance in my opinion. There's not the least good in looking through this forsaken Spinney. Still, we'd better do it.' 'Yes. Don't make a row. We're trespassing.' They moved on in silence. Half-way through the wood Charteris caught his foot in a hole and fell. 'Hurt?' said Tony. 'Only in spirit, thanks. The absolute dashed foolishness of this is being rapidly borne in upon me, Tony. What is the good of it? We shan't find him here.' Tony put his foot down upon these opinions with exemplary promptitude. 'We must go on trying. Hang it all, if it comes to the worst, it's better than frousting indoors.' 'Tony, you're a philosopher. Lead on, Macduff.' Tony was about to do so, when a form appeared in front of him, blocking the way. He flashed his lamp at the form, and the form, prefacing its remarks with a good, honest swearword—of a variety peculiar to that part of the country—requested him, without any affectation of ceremonious courtesy, to take his something-or-other lamp out of his (the form's) what's-its-named face, and state his business briefly. 'Surely I know that voice,' said Charteris. 'Archibald, my long-lost brother.' The keeper failed to understand him, and said so tersely. 'Can you tell me,' went on Charteris, 'if you have seen such a thing as a boy in this Spinney lately? We happen to have lost one. An ordinary boy. No special markings. His name is Thomson, on the Grampian Hills—' At this point the keeper felt that he had had enough. He made a dive for the speaker. Charteris dodged behind Tony, and his assailant, not observing this, proceeded to lay violent hands upon the latter, who had been standing waiting during the conversation. 'Let go, you fool,' cried he. The keeper's hand had come smartly into contact with his left eye, and from there had taken up a position on his shoulder. In reply the keeper merely tightened his grip. 'I'll count three,' said Tony, 'and—' The keeper's hand shifted to his collar. 'All right, then,' said Tony between his teeth. He hit up with his left at the keeper's wrist. The hand on his collar loosed its grip. Its owner rushed, and as he came, Tony hit him in the parts about the third waistcoat-button with his right. He staggered and fell. Tony hit very hard when the spirit moved him. 'Come on, man,' said Charteris quickly, 'before he gets his wind again. We mustn't be booked trespassing.' Tony recognised the soundness of the advice. They were out of the Spinney in two minutes. 'Now,' said Charteris, 'let's do a steady double to the road. This is no place for us. Come on, you man of blood.' When they reached the road they slowed down to a walk again. Charteris laughed. 'I feel just as if we'd done a murder, somehow. What an ass that fellow was to employ violence. He went down all right, didn't he?' 'Think there'll be a row?' 'No. Should think not. He didn't see us properly. Anyhow, he was interfering with an officer in the performance of his duty. So were we, I suppose. Well, let's hope for the best. Hullo!' 'What's up?' 'All right. It's only somebody coming down the road. Thought it might be the keeper at first. Why, it's Biffen.' It was Biffen. He looked at them casually as he came up, but stopped short in surprise when he saw who they were. 'Mr Charteris!' 'The same,' said Charteris. 'Enjoying a moonlight stroll, Biffen?' 'But what are you doing out of the 'ouse at this time of night, Mr Charteris?' 'It's this way,' said Tony, 'all the House-prefects have been sent out to look for Thomson. He's not come back.' 'Not come back, sir!' 'No. Bit queer, isn't it? The last anybody saw of him was when he dropped out of the long race near Parker's Spinney.' 'I seen him later than that, Mr Graham. He come on to the grounds while I was mowing the cricket field.' 'Not really? When was that?' 'Four. 'Alf past four, nearly.' 'What became of him?' ''E went off with Mr MacArthur. Mr MacArthur took 'im off 'ome with 'im, I think, sir.' 'By Jove,' said Charteris with enthusiasm. 'Now we are on the track. Thanks awfully, Biffen, I'll remember you in my will. Come on, Tony.' 'Where are you going now?' 'Babe's place, of course. The Babe holds the clue to this business. We must get it out of him. 'Night, Biffen.' 'Good-night, sir.' Arrived at the Babe's residence, they rang the bell, and, in the interval of waiting for the door to be opened, listened with envy to certain sounds of revelry which filtered through the windows of a room to the right of the porch. 'The Babe seems to be making a night of it,' said Charteris. 'Oh'—as the servant opened the door—'can we see Mr MacArthur, please?' The servant looked doubtful on the point. 'There's company tonight, sir.' 'I knew he was making a night of it,' said Charteris to Tony. 'It's not Mr MacArthur we want to see. It's—dash it, what's the Babe's name?' 'Robert, I believe. Wouldn't swear to it.' 'Mr Robert. Is he in?' It seemed to Charteris that the form of this question smacked of Ollendorf. He half expected the servant to say 'No, but he has the mackintosh of his brother's cousin'. It produced the desired effect, however, for after inviting them to step in, the servant disappeared, and the Babe came on the scene, wearing a singularly prosperous expression, as if he had dined well. 'Hullo, you chaps,' he said. 'Sir to you,' said Charteris. 'Look here, Babe, we want to know what you have done with Jim. He was seen by competent witnesses to go off with you, and he's not come back. If you've murdered him, you might let us have the body.' 'Not come back! Rot. Are you certain?' 'My dear chap, every House-prefect on the list has been sent out to look for him. When did he leave here?' The Babe reflected. 'Six, I should think. Little after, perhaps. Why—oh Lord!' He broke off suddenly. 'What's up?' asked Tony. 'Why I sent him by a short cut through some woods close by here, and I've only just remembered there's a sort of quarry in the middle of them. I'll bet he's in there.' 'Great Scott, man, what sort of a quarry? I like the calm way the Babe talks of sending unsuspecting friends into quarries. Deep?' 'Not very, thank goodness. Still, if he fell down he might not be able to get up again, especially if he'd hurt himself at all. Half a second. Let me get on some boots, and I'll come out and look. Shan't be long. When he came back, the three of them set out for the quarry. 'There you are,' cried the Babe, with an entirely improper pride in his voice, considering the circumstances. 'What did I tell you?' Out of the darkness in front of them came a shout. They recognised the voice at once as Jim's. Tony uttered a yell of encouragement, and was darting forward to the spot from which the cry had come, when the Babe stopped him. 'Don't do that, man,' he said. 'You'll be over yourself, if you don't look out. It's quite close here.' He flashed one of the lamps in front of him. The light fell on a black opening in the ground, and Jim's voice sounded once more from the bowels of the earth, this time quite close to where they stood. 'Jim,' shouted Charteris, 'where are you?' 'Hullo,' said the voice, 'who's that? You might lug me out of here.' 'Are you hurt?' 'Twisted my ankle.' 'How far down are you?' 'Not far. Ten feet, about. Can't you get me out?' 'Half a second,' said the Babe, 'I'll go and get help. You chaps had better stay here and talk to him.' He ran off. 'How many of you are there up there?' asked Jim. 'Only Tony and myself,' said Charteris. 'Thought I heard somebody else.' 'Oh, that was the Babe. He's gone off to get help.' 'Oh. When he comes back, wring his neck, and heave him down here,' said Jim. 'I want a word with him on the subject of short cuts. I say, is there much excitement about this?' 'Rather. All the House-prefects are out after you. We've been looking in Parker's Spinney, and Tony was reluctantly compelled to knock out a keeper who tried to stop us. You should have been there. It was a rag.' 'Wish I had been. Hullo, is that the Babe come back?' It was. The Babe, with his father and a party of friends arrayed in evening dress. They carried a ladder amongst them. The pungent remarks Jim had intended to address to the Babe had no opportunity of active service. It was not the Babe who carried him up the ladder, but two of the dinner-party. Nor did the Babe have a hand in the carrying of the stretcher. That was done by as many of the evening-dress brigade as could get near enough. They seemed to enjoy it. One of them remarked that it reminded him of South Africa. To which another replied that it was far more like a party of policemen gathering in an 'early drunk' in the Marylebone Road. The procession moved on its stately way to the Babe's father's house, and the last Tony and Charteris saw of Jim, he was the centre of attraction, and appeared to be enjoying himself very much. Charteris envied him, and did not mind saying so. 'Why can't I smash my ankle?' he demanded indignantly of Tony. He was nearing section five, sub-section three, of his discourse, when they reached Merevale's gates. It was after eleven, but they felt that the news they were bringing entitled them to be a little late. Charteris brought his arguments to a premature end, and Tony rang the bell. Merevale himself opened the door to them. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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