“How? Tell me all about it,” he urged.
“Later on. Not here,” I said. “Let us see if there is any further evidence of recent digging,” and together we examined the ground beneath the second tree.
Presently Jack in the course of searching about, came to a spot where the ground seemed perceptibly softer. My stick sank in, while in other parts the ground seemed hard. Beneath the trees the weeds and grass grew thinly, and I presumed that the miscreants could work there under the canopy of leaves without fear of observation.
I bent down and carefully examined the surface, which, for about four feet square, bore plain traces of having recently been moved.
Something had evidently been interred there. Yet tiny fresh blades of green were just springing up, as though grass-seed had been sprinkled over in order to obliterate traces of the recent excavation.
“What do you think of it?” I inquired of my companion.
“Well, perhaps somebody has really been buried here—eh?” he said. “Don’t you think you ought to go and tell the police at once?”
I was silent, in bewilderment.
“My own opinion is, Owen, that if a serious attempt has been made upon you, and you really suspect that that hole yonder was prepared to receive you, then it is your duty to tell the police. Others may fall into the trap,” Jack added.