“Well,” he said, “I think we’ll turn in. Seven o’clock to-morrow morning, Inspector. Jim’s sending one of the boys with us and we shall catch the Eastern Limited at the junction.”
The Inspector yawned.
“This open-air life makes me sleepy,” he confessed.
“To bed, all of us,” Quest concluded, turning away.
3.
Quest awoke the next morning, stretched out his hand and glanced at the watch by the side of his bed. It was barely six o’clock. He turned over and dozed again, looked again at half-past six, and finally, at a few minutes to seven, rose and made a hasty toilet. Then, in the act of placing his watch in his waistcoat pocket, he gave a sudden start. By its side, half covered by the handkerchief which he had thrown upon the little table, stood a small black box! For a moment he was motionless. Then he stretched out his hand, removed the lid and drew out the usual neatly folded piece of paper:—
“Even time fights you. It loses that you may lose.
“The Hands.”
Quest for a moment was puzzled. Then he hurried into the next tent, where the Professor was sleeping peacefully.
“Say, Professor, what’s the time by your watch?” Quest asked, shaking him gently.
The Professor sat up and drew his chronometer from under his pillow.