The little dapper man flung his head up.

“Oh, it’s certain, Bramwell; it’s beyond any question now.  My word!  If Tony were only alive, or I twenty years younger!  It’s no great undertaking, to go in to the Karamajo Mountains.  One could start from the West Coast, unship any place and pick up a bunch of natives.  The map on the back of the water color is accurate.  The man who made that knew how to travel in an unknown country.  He must have had a theodolite and the very best equipment.  Anybody could follow that map.”

There was a battered old dispatch box on the table beside Sir Godfrey’s arm — one that had seen rough service.

“Of course,” he went on, “we don’t know when Tony picked up this drawing.  It was in this box here with his diary, an automatic pistol and some quinine.  The date of the diary entry is the only clue.  That would indicate that he was near the Karamajo range at the time, not far from the spot.”

He snapped his fingers.

“What damned luck!”

He clinched his hands and brought them down on the table.

“I’m nearly seventy, Bramwell, but you’re ten years under that.  You could go in.  No one need know the object of your expedition.  Hector Bartlett didn’t tell the whole of England when he went out to Syria for the gold plates.  A scientist can go anywhere.  No one wonders what he is about.  It wouldn’t take three months.  And the climate isn’t poisonous.  I think it’s mostly high ground.  Tony didn’t complain about it.”

The biologist answered without looking up.

“I haven’t got the money, Sir Godfrey.”

The dapper little man jerked his head as over a triviality.

“I’ll stake you.  It wouldn’t cost above five hundred pounds.”

The biologist sat back in his chair, at the words, and looked over the table at his guest.

“That’s awfully decent of you, Godfrey,” he said, “and I’d go if I saw a way to get your money to you if anything happened.”

“Damn the money!” cried the other.

The biologist smiled.

“Well,” he said, “let me think about it.  I could probably fix up some sort of insurance.  Lloyd’s will bet nearly any sane man that he won’t die for three months.  And besides I should wish to look things up a little.”

Sir Godfrey rose.

“Oh, to be sure,” he said, “you want to make certain about the thing.  We might be wrong.  I hadn’t an idea what it was until I brought it to you, and of course Tony hadn’t an idea.  Make certain of it by all means.”

The biologist extended his long legs under the table.  He indicated the water color in his hand.

“This thing’s certain,” he said.  “I know what this thing is.”

He rapped the water color with the fingers of his free hand.

“This thing was painted on the spot.  Maartin was looking at this thing when he painted it.  You can see the big shadows underneath.  No living creature could have imagined this or painted it from hearsay.  He had to see it.  And he did see it.  I wasn’t thinking about this, Godfrey.  I was thinking the Dutch government might help a bit in the hope of finding some trace of Maartin and I should wish to examine any information they might have about him.”