“Well!” he said at last.
“Well—what?” exclaimed Captain Mortimer questioningly.
“What are you going to do?” asked Kearns.
“Why,” exclaimed Mortimer in some astonishment, “I’m going to Antler Hill, I suppose. Why should I not go?”
“Because I scent a trap of some kind!” replied Kearns with conviction.
“A trap!” exclaimed Mortimer. “You do, eh?”
“Yes!”
“Well, I’m astonished,” exclaimed Mortimer, “but I do not know that I should hold back. If a friend awaits me there, I wouldn’t like to appear ungrateful, and if it is, as you suspect, an enemy, I’ve never yet hesitated to meet my enemies. What makes you think it is a trap?”
“Why so much mystery about this missive? Why is it unsigned? Why should this friend conceal his name from you?” asked Kearns vehemently.
“Well,” answered Mortimer musingly, “there is some force in what you say, and yet one can imagine reasons why a friend might not sign such a communication, especially when his identity is about to be revealed in the course of an hour.”