Cumshaw called to him and was answered with an oath.
"Where are you?" he repeated.
"Down here," said the voice, this time modifying its language. "Step carefully or you'll come a cropper."
Mr. Cumshaw pulled the bushes apart and found that he was standing on the verge of a sheer descent.
"Mind your eye," said the voice of the still invisible Mr. Bradby. "I've found the very place we've been looking for."
Chapter III.
THE HIDDEN VALLEY.
Abel Cumshaw caught at the bushes to save himself from slipping and turned a curious eye on the scene before him. Really there wasn't very much for him to see. Bradby had fallen into a miniature valley so small that it looked like the creation of a child. The place was heavily timbered, and almost all definable features were masked beneath the trees. Abel saw even in the first glance that here was just that ideal hiding-place for which they had been searching. Softly and cautiously he commenced to descend. The slope was slippery with green grass, and he finished the last few yards with a run. He came down amongst a lot of bracken and fern, and suffered no worse harm than the shock of a sudden stoppage. Mr. Bradby, he saw, was sitting almost buried in a mass of bracken, and looking much cheerier than his recent utterance would seem to suggest.
"Are you hurt?" Cumshaw asked him. He held out a helping hand. Mr. Bradby struggled to his feet and smiled at his questioner.