Billy growled assent.
“That sort of thing’s all rot,” he affirmed, with emphasis. “I arrived at the fact easily and sanely by the exercise of a rationalizing intelligence.”
“Precisely!” David agreed. “And that’s why I don’t attach the slightest importance to your statement.” At this heterodox confession, Billy was too overwhelmed with disgust to pursue the argument farther.
Saxe did not share in the avowed disbelief of Roy and David. While the others were engaged in disputation, he had gone to the stack of music, and had looked through it until he came upon the sheet of manuscript. Then, he returned to his seat on the stool, placed the music on the rack, and devoted himself to scrutiny of the writing. He felt, somehow, that he dared not reject the suggestion that here was the very thing he sought as the guide to fortune. Nevertheless, though he studied the page with anxious intensity, he could perceive no possibility of any hint to be derived from the simple score of notes. There was nothing set down in the way of diagram, or combination of letters which by twist of ingenuity might be made to suit his need. Nothing showed beyond the phrases of a composition naked in its simplicity. Reason told him that any trust in this manuscript were delusion. Yet, he hung over it, absorbed, even while he chided himself for his interest in a thing plainly worthless to the purpose.
It was Billy Walker, turning in disgust from the debate with David, who first observed Saxe’s absorption in the manuscript, and his vanity was at once consoled by this mute support. He got up lumberingly, and crossed over to the piano, where he stood looking down at the music. His action caused David and Roy to perceive what Saxe was doing, and forthwith, despite their skepticism, they, too, rose and went to the piano, there to stare down curiously at the manuscript on the rack.
Here is a copy of the sheet on which the four adventurers were looking down:
[[Listen]]
The four stood in silence for a long minute, gazing down at the manuscript page with keen discouragement. Saxe was the first to speak, shaking his head dispiritedly:
“It means nothing,” he said, with melancholy certainty in his voice. “There is no possibility of its meaning anything. For a moment, I was foolish enough to hope that Billy had really got the right idea, but he hasn’t. This is a plain bit of music, nothing more.”