Hurriedly he read this translation through. Twice he paused in utter astonishment. Three times he wrote down a brief note on a scrap of paper. When he had finished, he looked at the lower left-hand corner of the map, then copied some figures reproduced there.
Closing the book quickly, as if afraid the girl would find him looking at it, he paused for a second to banish all sign of excitement from his face, then walked leisurely from the room.
"Find anything?" he asked in as quiet a tone as he could command.
"No," there was a tired and worried look in her eyes. "I'm afraid the map is not here."
"By the way," he said in a casual way, "does your brother happen to have a pal living at Landensport on the coast?"
"Why, yes," she said quickly, "that's Alfred Brightwood. They were chums in Brimward Academy."
"And you think—think—" she faltered.
"What we think," he smiled a disarming smile, "doesn't count for much. It's facts which really matter. Excuse me; I'll be back in a moment," he said hurriedly. "Want to telephone."
In the booth of the library he conversed long and earnestly with his chief.