Harris had something beside a square and determined jaw. He had muscular arms and he looked just then as though he were ready to use them. Spink gave him no provocation.
He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a key.
“Is this the one, Miss ’Phemie?” asked the young fellow.
The girl stepped forward, and in the lamplight from the bedroom doorway identified the key of the green door–with its tag attached.
“All right, then. Go to your room, Professor,” said Harris. “Unless you want him for something further, Miss ’Phemie?”
“My goodness me! No!” cried ’Phemie. “I never want to see him again.”
The professor was already aiming for the stairs, and he quickly disappeared. Harris turned to the still shaking girl.
“What’s it all about, Miss ’Phemie?” he asked.
“That’s what I’d really like to know myself,” she replied, eagerly. “He is after something—”
“So my father says,” interposed Harris. “Father says Spink has something hidden–or has made some discovery–up there in the rocks.”