“Don’t bother—I’m all safe,” came up Markham’s hollow tones. “There’s only about three feet of water here.”
“How did you ever come to slip in?” asked Frank.
“Say,” spoke Markham, not replying to the direct inquiry, “while I’m in here I may as well see if everything is sound and straight with the cistern.”
Frank saw him flare a match. Some curious thoughts were running through Frank’s mind as to the strange actions of his companion and helper.
Before he could analyze them, however, Frank saw Bob Haven turn in at the gate. He had a package under his arm. Bob stood still for a moment to gaze after the person who had just preceded him.
This latter was a young man, dressed loudly in brand new clothes, waving a slender cane with a dandified air, his whole bearing suggesting a person trying to look important and attract attention. This was the fellow the sight of whom had apparently induced Markham to plunge out of sight into the cistern.
Bob Haven stared hard after the receding figure of the stranger.
“Well, well!” he was saying as he approached Frank.
“What’s the matter, Bob?” inquired Frank.