“Your theory,” corrected Bernard. “You’re right, of course. I’ll lower the window from here and you can watch from indoors. Never mind about people blundering into the library to get shot. They’re all at lunch and I’ve stationed the policemen out of sight. If someone came nosing about, it might give us a hint and we don’t want our cops in evidence on that account. So you take up your stand in the far corner of the reception-room and keep out of the line of fire. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll pull down the window!”
Bernard waited, one elbow on the sill, until Landis had passed around through the wing and the library to his post. He took that route to avoid being seen from the dining-room.
“Ready?” called Bernard.
“Shoot!” replied Landis alertly.
With a sudden grin, Bernard raised both his arms, avoiding the thread, put his weight on the sash and pulled the window down with a bang.
From his position in the reception-room, Landis caught a distant and musical twang. To his utter amazement, however, no Japanese arrow flashed through the reception-room doorway. Instead, he was startled by a bellow of rage from outdoors and glancing through the closed window was further amazed to see no sign of Bernard.
With a sense of sickening dread he sprang into the main hall, ran to the front door, flung it open and dashed round the corner of the house.
He was just in time to catch Bernard wallowing on his face in the flower-bed under the window. A moment later his elderly colleague had scrambled to his feet and turned.
“My God, are you hurt?” Landis shouted.
“Not a bit of it! Just dirty!” snapped Bernard. “There’s your arrow! It worked!”