Tomlinson nodded. "That's quite right," he said. "It's kind of unfortunate Sewell isn't here. You don't know where he is?"
"No," said Ingleby. "He has been away for two days looking for a deer. I suppose anybody pegging off a claim next to ours would strike gold?"
"It's quite likely. He'd get the colour, sure, but when the creek that washed the metal out was running it dropped the heavy stuff only here and there. Anyway, the chances would be good enough, I figure. What policeman was it you told?"
"Probyn."
Tomlinson's face hardened suddenly. "Oh, yes!" he said. "He's quite often hanging around here."
It occurred to Ingleby now that the trooper in question had certainly found occasion to visit their mine or the bakery somewhat frequently, but just then the lad in question appeared and came up to them. He disregarded Tomlinson, who showed no sign of recognizing him, and looked at Ingleby.
"Major Coulthurst would be glad if you and Leger could find it convenient to see him now," he said.
"What does he want?" asked Leger sharply.
"I don't know," said the trooper. "I'm telling you what he said."
There was a curious silence for a moment or two, and Ingleby felt a little thrill of apprehension run through him. Then Tomlinson rose with sudden abruptness.