His presence on the scene made, I perceived, a vast difference to my plan of campaign. It was at this point that my purchase of the Browning pistol lost its absurdity and appeared in the light of an acute strategic move. With Sam the only menace, I had been prepared to play a purely waiting game, watching proceedings from afar, ready to give my help if necessary. To check Buck, more strenuous methods were called for.

My mind was made up. With Buck, that stout disciple of the frontal attack, in the field, there was only one place for me. I must get into Sanstead House and stay there on guard.

Did he intend to make an offensive movement tonight? That was the question which occupied my mind. From the point of view of an opponent, there was this merit about Mr MacGinnis, that he was not subtle. He could be counted on with fair certainty to do the direct thing. Sooner or later he would make another of his vigorous frontal attacks upon the stronghold. The only point to be decided was whether he would make it that night. Would professional zeal cause him to omit his beauty sleep?

I did not relish the idea of spending the night patrolling the grounds, but it was imperative that the house be protected. Then it occurred to me that the man for the vigil was Smooth Sam. If the arrival of Mr MacGinnis had complicated matters in one way, it had simplified them in another, for there was no more need for the secrecy which had been, till now, the basis of my plan of action.

Buck's arrival made it possible for me to come out and fight in the open, instead of brooding over Sanstead House from afar like a Providence. Tomorrow I proposed to turn Sam out. Tonight I would use him. The thing had resolved itself into a triangular tournament, and Sam and Buck should play the first game.

Once more I called up the house on the telephone. There was a long delay before a reply came. It was Mr Fisher's voice that spoke.

Audrey, apparently, had not returned to the house immediately after leaving me.

'Hullo!' said Sam.

'Good evening, Mr Fisher.'

'Gee! Is that you, young fellow-me-lad? Are you speaking from London?'

'No. I am at the "Feathers".'

He chuckled richly.

'Can't tear yourself away? Hat still in the ring? Say, what's the use? Why not turn it up, sonny? You're only wasting your time.'

'Do you sleep lightly, Mr Fisher?'

'I don't get you.'

'You had better do so tonight. Buck MacGinnis is back again.'

There was silence at the other end of the wire. Then I heard him swear softly. The significance of the information had not been lost on Mr Fisher.

'Is that straight?'

'It is.'

'You're not stringing me?'

'Certainly not.'

'You're sure it was Buck?'

'Is Buck's the sort of face one forgets?'

He swore again.

'You seem disturbed,' I said.

'Where did you see him?' asked Sam.

'Coming out of the "Feathers", looking very fierce and determined.

The Berserk blood of the MacGinnises is up. He's going to do or die. I'm afraid this means an all-night sitting for you, Mr Fisher.'

'I thought you had put him out of business!'

There was a somewhat querulous note in his voice.

'Only temporarily. I did my best, but he wasn't even limping when I saw him.'

He did not speak for a moment. I gathered that he was pondering over the new development.

'Thanks for tipping me off, sonny. It's a thing worth knowing. Why did you do it?'

'Because I love you, Samuel. Good night.'

I rose late and breakfasted at my leisure. The peace of the English country inn enveloped me as I tilted back my chair and smoked the first pipe of the morning. It was a day to hearten a man for great deeds, one of those days of premature summer which comes sometimes to help us bear the chill winds of early spring.

The sun streamed in through the open window. In the yard below fowls made their soothing music. The thought of violence seemed very alien to such a morning.

I strolled out into the Square. I was in no hurry to end this interlude of peace and embark on what, for all practical purposes, would be a siege.

After lunch, I decided, would be time enough to begin active campaigning.

The clock on the church tower was striking two as I set forth, carrying my suit-case, on my way to the school. The light-heartedness of the morning still lingered with me. I was amused at the thought of the surprise I was about to give Mr Fisher. That wink still rankled.

As I made my way through the grounds I saw Audrey in the distance, walking with the Nugget. I avoided them and went on into the house.

About the house there was the same air of enchanted quiet which pervaded the grounds. Perhaps the stillness indoors was even more insistent. I had grown so accustomed to the never-ending noise and bustle of the boys' quarters that, as I crossed the silent hall, I had an almost guilty sense of intrusion. I felt like a burglar.

Sam, the object of my visit, would, I imagined, if he were in the house at all, be in the housekeeper's room, a cosy little apartment off the pa.s.sage leading to the kitchen. I decided to draw that first, and was rewarded, on pushing open the half-closed door, by the sight of a pair of black-trousered legs stretched out before me from the depths of a wicker-work armchair. His portly middle section, rising beyond like a small hill, heaved rhythmically. His face was covered with a silk handkerchief, from beneath which came, in even succession, faint and comfortable snores. It was a peaceful picture--the good man taking his rest; and for me it had an added attractiveness in that it suggested that Sam was doing by day what my information had prevented him from doing in the night. It had been some small consolation to me, as I lay trying to compose my anxious mind for sleep on the previous night, that Mr Fisher also was keeping his vigil.

Pleasing as Sam was as a study in still life, pressure of business compelled me to stir him into activity. I prodded him gently in the centre of the rising territory beyond the black trousers. He grunted discontentedly and sat up. The handkerchief fell from his face, and he blinked at me, first with the dazed gla.s.siness of the newly awakened, then with a 'Soul's Awakening' expression, which spread over his face until it melted into a friendly smile.

'h.e.l.lo, young man!'

'Good afternoon. You seem tired.'

He yawned cavernously.

'Lord! What a night!'

'Did Buck drop in?'

'No, but I thought he had every time I heard a board creak. I didn't dare close my eyes for a minute. Have you ever stayed awake all night, waiting for the goblins that get you if you don't watch out? Well, take it from me it's no picnic.'

His face split in another mammoth yawn. He threw his heart into it, as if life held no other tasks for him. Only in alligators have I ever seen its equal.

I waited till the seismic upheaval had spent itself. Then I came to business.

'I'm sorry you had a disturbed night, Mr Fisher. You must make up for it this afternoon. You will find the beds very comfortable.'