I rushed forward with Pons to drag him clear and soon saw that though he was unconscious, there was little damage done, except for a scorch-mark on the breast of his overcoat and a smouldering coat-tail. The awed group of men tending the bonfire moved to let us pass. Pons retrieved his stick from the ground, his eyes sparkling, his breathing even and normal, his voice good-tempered.
“You may tell Mr Ferguson when he comes to himself that the Colonel now has me to deal with. He will understand.”
He looked down thoughtfully at the unconscious giant.
“If I were you I should lose no time in getting him to his home. He will catch a chill lying on the ground at this time of the year.”
And with a dry chuckle he turned on his heel and made his way back across the fields, re-tracing the route we had already followed. Mackintosh caught up with us before we had gone ten yards.
“That was champion, sir. Just champion. I have never seen the like. Allow me to shake you by the hand, Mr Pons.”
The old fellow was so sincere in his admiration and delight that Pons smilingly extended his hand.
“It was nothing,” he said carelessly. “I was quite a good amateur boxer at one time. But the affair was a single-stick bout for the most part and I must confess I rather pride myself on my prowess in that direction.”
I fell into step alongside him.
“At any rate it has demoralised friend Ferguson and thrown the enemy into disorder,” said Pons reflectively. “I have no time for such bullies and there is no doubt in my mind that it was Ferguson who downed you in the coppice that dark evening, Mackintosh.”
The old man’s face was clouded with anger.
“Then you have made ample restitution, Mr Pons, and I am doubly grateful to you.”
“You have made a bad enemy, Pons,” said I.
“Tut, Parker, he is a tool, merely, and as such of no importance. But unless I miss my guess the incident will bring some reaction from the Colonel. The thing is as plain as daylight to both of us. Each reads the other like a book.”
“I do not quite follow you, Pons.”
“Ah, here we are at the stream again,” said my companion, as though he had not heard my comment, and he was silent and preoccupied with his thoughts until we had again regained the comfortable quarters assigned to us at our hostess’ estate.
9
Smoke and steam obscured the platform as we descended from the carriage in the biting air.
“But why are we returning to Inverness, Pons? And by such a roundabout route? That long journey in the dog-cart and then the change of train and boring wait?”
“Tut, Parker,” said Solar Pons impatiently, as we gave up our tickets at the barrier.
“It is elementary, surely. The Land Trust offices are at Carnock House, Inverness. Therefore, to Inverness we must go.”
“But Mackintosh could have driven us here direct, just as he did when we came,” I protested.
Solar Pons shook his head, impatience showing in his deep-set eyes.
“You are not using your brain, Parker,” he said crisply. “And give away our destination? The thrashing I gave Mungo Ferguson would have reached the Colonel’s ears very quickly. Before he has time to react, we have made our move. I wanted to reach Inverness secretly, before he has an inkling of what we are about.”
“I see, Pons,” I said, as we hurried down a side-street opposite the station. “But where is Carnock House?”
“I have already looked it up,” said Solar Pons, shifting his valise from one hand to the other. “It is a pity that we have to leave Miss Hayling for one night like this but there was no alternative if I was to find out what I wanted. But with Mackintosh sleeping in the house tonight and the McRaes on the alert, she is safe enough for the moment.”
“But what do you expect to find here today, Pons?”
“The Land Trust is the key to the whole thing, Parker. I must find out what sort of statements they are issuing. The girl’s property is the crux of the matter. This is where you come in, Parker.”
“Me, Pons?”
I looked at him in some alarm, as we turned into a broad, impressive-looking thoroughfare, crowded with shoppers and traffic.
“Your grammar is going to pieces in your agitation, Parker, but I follow your drift. I want you to play out a little comedy in the main office and keep the clerk they employ busy.”
“What will you be doing in the meantime?”
Solar Pons chuckled.
“Breaking into their private quarters, Parker.”
I gazed at him in horror.
“You cannot be serious, Pons!”
My friend stared at me sombrely.
“I was never more serious, Parker. The young lady’s life is in danger. McDonald will step tip his campaign against her now that I am on his home territory. You surely have not forgotten that creature at the hotel?”
I shivered and drew my overcoat collar closer round me. “You are right, as ever, Pons. But what are we to do if we are caught? There may be others on the staff.”
Solar Pons shook his head as we turned into a large, imposing-looking court, crowded with offices and commercial buildings.
“I have already deduced from what our client says, Parker, that the office is a sham, merely designed to give respectability and credence to the Colonel’s operations. It is imposing enough, I give you, but if we are to believe Miss Hayling it is not even on the telephone. The young fellow McDonald employs as a clerk is respectable enough, and no doubt believes in the reality of the brochures and literature he sends out. But he is the only person on the premises so my scheme should not be too difficult to put into operation.”
I looked at him with pursed lips.
“Let us hope you are right, Pons. Otherwise we shall not need our hotel reservations while spending the night in police cells.”
Pons was still chuckling when we came in sight of the discreet gilt lettering of the Scottish Land Trust offices. They were respectable-looking premises in a narrow-chested building of clean-cut granite, whose bow windows were filled with impressive cabinet photographs and printed literature drawing-pinned to green baize boards. I paused and pretended to examine the windows while Pons turned aside under a small archway which immediately adjoined the building and led to a cobbled courtyard at the side.
He was back again in a few moments, his face bright and alert. He handed me the valise.
“It is just as I thought, Parker. There is a small private office with a glass door which a child could unlock. There are filing cabinets and desks and I should be able to find what I want there. Now listen carefully, because I want you to follow my instructions implicitly.”
A few minutes later, as I entered the office, there was no sign of Pons in the street outside. I had begun my task in doubt and uncertainty knowing that we were engaged in illegal, perhaps even criminal proceedings, but the young man with dark hair who rose eagerly from his desk at the back of the office to come to the counter on my entry, was so naive and unversed in the profession for which he was so obviously unfitted that I rapidly regained my confidence.
The elaborate and searching questions about the Scottish Land Trust with which Pons had primed me, soon had young Wilson in a tangle and he had shortly retreated to his desk, pencil in hand, while he searched for a slip of paper on which to note his mumbled calculations. When he rejoined me at the counter, there were little patches of pink on his cheeks and his manner was agitated and nervous in the extreme. But I think I carried out my task with commendable thoroughness. With the brochures and other literature spread out on the countertop between us, I plied the young clerk with searching questions so that the quarter of an hour Pons had stipulated had seemingly passed in a flash.