“‘That I grant you, willingly,’ says I. ‘But, believe me, friend, you’ll have to be sharp to get anything else.’
“The worst of an electric torch in a dark place,” complained Mr. Scanlon, “is that the party holding it has a good sight of you; but all you can do to him is wink and look foolish. These being the conditions I didn’t lash out at the party as I felt like doing, not knowing just what he was; so I waited for him to show his hand.
“‘You are on your way to Schwartzberg, I think,’ says the voice.
“‘On my way is right,’ says I, as confidently as I could. ‘And I count on getting there all safe and sound.’
“The party with the torch appeared to be tickled at this; for he began to chuckle.
“‘I’m very fortunate in meeting you,’ says he.
“‘Good,’ says I. ‘I always like to find people in luck. And now, if it’s no trouble, suppose you explain your reason for stopping me.’
“‘Of course,’ says he. ‘To be sure. I’ve a small favour to ask of you,’ he says. ‘If you’ll be so kind, I’ll have you carry this to young Mr. Campe.’
“And like that,” here Scanlon snapped his fingers, “the light went out, and I felt the party put something into my hand.
“‘No explanation will be needed,’ says the voice, if anything a little smoother than before.