I want
some one who is both business-like and inventive--some one young,
brilliant and reliable." "You couldn't sell out I suppose?" "No, not just at present. Thanks to poor old Dick the Firm is in
rather a precarious condition! Another six months over, and we may be
perfectly all right. No! I must stick on, and get another partner. And
look here, Gladys, you know I let you do pretty nearly everything you
like. But let me beg of you not to be too friendly with that young
Davenport. I caught him looking very impressibly at you this morning,
and I am quite sure, if he sees anything more of you, he will be
falling head over ears in love. Which is the very last thing in the
world I want!" "That's making me out to be very attractive, Daddy," Gladys said,
looking round at him mischievously. "And so you are, dear!" John Martin said. "Wonderfully attractive! and
none knows it better than yourself. But in this case you must think of
consequences--consequences that might be disastrous to us all! Confound it all, who's this? What on earth does he want?" Gladys gazed in astonishment. A young and very smartly dressed man was
advancing towards them with a soft, cat-like tread. He was of medium
height and slim build. His head disproportionately large; his right
ear standing out, in proof that it had long been used as a pen-rest;
his nose pronounced and Semitic in outline; his eyes, big, projecting
and yellowish brown; his chin, retreating; his complexion, dark and
saturnine. Gladys shivered. "What a horrible person!" she whispered, "there is
something positively uncanny about him. I feel cold all over and how
he stares!" "Yes--what is it?" John Martin demanded. "Do you want to see me?" "You're Mr. Martin, I reckon!" the stranger replied in the soft drawl,
characteristic of California. "I've come to have a little talk with
you on business." "With me--on business!" John Martin cried. "I don't know you! I've
never seen you before!" "You see me now anyway!" the stranger laughed, casting approving eyes
at Gladys. "My name's Leon Hamar, and I've come to talk over that show
of yours." "D--n your impudence!" John Martin said, raising his stick
threateningly. "How dare you intrude upon me here on such a pretext." "Calmly, calmly, sir!" Hamar cried, his cheeks paling. "I've come here
with every intention of being civil. I am chief partner in the Modern
Sorcery Company Ltd., and as conjuring figures prominently in our
programme I thought you might prefer to have us as friends rather than
rivals." "I'm sure my father need not fear your rivalry," Gladys broke in,
meeting Hamar's admiring gaze stonily. Hamar bowed. "If," he said, "you desire a proof of our ability to accomplish what
we profess, I will give that proof without delay. With your per--"

"You have no permission from me, sir," John Martin cried fiercely. "Go!" Hamar merely shrugged his shoulders. "You ought not to get so heated,"
he said, "considering that exactly twenty feet below where you are
standing is a spring. All you have to do is to mark the spot, and sink
a well, and there will be no need for you to use the Company's water. As you are probably aware, spring water is a thousand times clearer
and purer. Also," he went on, stepping hastily back as John Martin
again raised his stick, "in the trunk of that elm over yonder is a
hollow about eight feet from the ground, and if you look inside it,
you will discover an iron box full of curios and jewellery. Shall I--"

"No!" retorted John Martin. "If you don't go instantly I'll send for
the police,"--and Hamar, coming to the conclusion that upon this
occasion discretion was better than valour, hurriedly beat a retreat. "You'll be sorry, John Martin!" he shouted from a safe distance, "and
so will Miss Gladys, charming Miss Gladys. But remember you have only
yourselves to blame. Ta-ta! ", and the next moment he was lost to
sight. "Well!" Gladys ejaculated, "of all the beastly cads I have ever seen
he fairly takes the biscuit. What colossal cheek! The idea of his
coming here and speaking to us like that! Can't we prosecute him,
Father?" "Hardly!" John Martin replied, "best leave him alone. I wish he hadn't
come! He's upset me! My nerves are anyhow! Which was the tree he spoke
about?" "This one," Gladys exclaimed, walking up to an elm, and patting it
with her hand, "but you surely don't believe what he said, do you? It
was all rubbish from start to finish. Daddy, my dear old Daddy, I do
believe you are worrying about it." "Hold my hat and stick a moment," John Martin said, and making a
spring, which for one of his age and weight showed surprising agility,
he succeeded in catching hold of one of the nearest lateral branches. The elm being old, the bark had become very gnarled and uneven, and
thus the difficulty of ascension lay more in semblance, perhaps, than
in reality. Embracing the huge trunk, as closely as possible, with his
arms and knees, much to the detriment of his clothes, seizing with his
hands some projections, and resting his feet upon others, John Martin,
after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at length wriggled
himself into the first great fork, and paused to wipe his forehead. "Oh, do take care, Father!" Gladys pleaded, "you'll fall and break
your neck. Do be sensible and come down now." But John Martin paid no attention, he went on groping. "I've found it," he suddenly shouted. "That bounder was right, the
trunk is hollow." He was silent then, for some minutes, and Gladys
could only see his boots. Then there was a muffled oath, a sound of
choking and gasping, which made Gladys's blood run cold, and then--a
great cry. "There's something here, something hard and heavy. It's a
box, an iron box! Take it from me." And leaning as far down as he
dared, he placed in Gladys's outstretched hands, a rusty iron box. Then there was the sound of scraping and tearing, and John Martin
gradually lowered himself to the ground--his coat covered with green,
and the knees of his trousers ripped to pieces. Gladys ran indoors for a hammer and chisel, and, the hinges of the box
being worn with age and exposure, it was but the work of a few seconds
to break it open. It was full of gold and silver coins and jewellery;
there were only a few gold pieces, the greater number of the coins
were silver--the bulk Georgian--and their dates ranged from 1697 to
1750. The jewellery consisted of several massive gold bracelets, (two
or three of very fine workmanship); some dozen or so plain gold rings;
two silver watches, and a varied assortment of silver trinkets. All
were more or less antique, but none--apart from the gold bracelets--of
any great value. "Well!" John Martin exclaimed, as they concluded their examination of
the articles, "what do you make of it?" "Why that man put them there, of course," Gladys said, "can't you see
the whole thing is nothing but a dodge to intimidate you into forming
a friendship with him.