“I certainly should stay for that, Mr. Burnham,” Hilderman advised. “One more day can’t make much difference.”
“I’ll think it over,” said Dennis, careful not to commit himself rashly.
We came to the Dead Man’s Pool, and crossed over the river, and began to walk up the other side.
“This is about the right time for a manifestation of the mystery,” I remarked lightly, though I was far from laughing about the whole thing.
“Well,” said Hilderman, “if we are to see the green flash in operation I hope it will be in a gentle mood, and not pull our teeth out one by one or anything of that sort.” Evidently he had little sympathy with our fear of the green ray and the awe with which we approached the neighbourhood of the river.
“Are we going to the right place?” Dennis asked. “I mean the identical spot?”
“That lozenge-shaped thing up there is the Chemist’s Rock,” I replied, “and the other important place is Dead Man’s Pool, which we have just left.”
“Miss McLeod went blind on the Chemist’s Rock, didn’t she?” Dennis inquired.
“Yes,” I replied, with a shudder. “She was fishing from it.”