It was a pocket periscope.
He thrust the thing over the edge of the roof and down, and looked through it. Below, he could see into the room from which came the peculiar sounds.
He looked anxiously. There he could see Elaine endeavoring still to loosen the cords and unable to do so. Only for a moment he looked. Then he folded up the pocket periscope into the case and shoved it back into his pocket. Quickly he crossed the roof again, and slid back down the rain-pipe.
At the door stood three of Del Mar’s men waiting for Del Mar who had told them he would follow immediately.
The naturalist had by this time reached the ground and was going along carefully back of the house. He drew his revolver and, pointing it down, fired. Then he dodged back of an extension and disappeared for the moment.
Instantly, the three men sprang up and ran toward the spot where it seemed the shot had been fired. There was no one about the side of the house. But the wind had carried the smoke into some bushes beside the grove and they crashed into the bushes, beating about.
At the same time, the naturalist, having first waited until he saw which way the men were going, dashed about the house in the opposite direction. Then he slipped, unopposed and unobserved, in through the open front door, up the stairs and along to the room into which he had just been looking. He unlocked the door, and entered. Elaine was still struggling with the cords when she caught sight of the stranger.
“Not a word,” he cautioned under his breath.
She was indeed too frightened to cry out. Quickly, he loosened her, still holding his finger to his lips to enjoin silence.
“Follow me,” he whispered.
She obeyed mechanically, and they went out into the hall. On down-stairs went the naturalist, Elaine still keeping close after him.
He looked out through the front door, then drew back. Quickly he went through the lower hall until he came to the back door in the kitchen, Elaine following. He unbolted the door and opened it.
“Run,” he said, simply, pointing out of the door. “They’re coming back the other way. I’ll hold them.”
She needed no further urging, but darted from the house as he closed the door after her.
. . . . . . .
It was just at this point that Del Mar came riding along the main road on horseback. He pulled up suddenly as he saw a car run in alongside the road.
“That’s Elaine’s runabout,” he muttered, as he dismounted and tied his horse. “How came it here?”
He approached the car, much worried by its unaccountable presence there instead of before the St. Germain. Then he drew his gun and hurried up the side road.
He heard a shot and quickened his pace. In the woods unexpectedly he came upon his three men still beating about, searching with drawn revolvers for the person who had fired the shot.