Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 1, Fall 1941

The Adventure of the Treasure Hunt by Ellery Queen

There was no trail to the necklace that vanished, so Ellery Queen made one.

“Dismount!” roared Major-General Barrett gaily, scrambling off his horse. “How’s that for exercise before breakfast, Mr. Queen?”

“Oh, lovely,” said Ellery, landing on terra firma somehow. The big bay tossed his head, visibly relieved. “I’m afraid my cavalry muscles are a little atrophied, General. We’ve been riding since six-thirty, remember.” He limped to the cliff’s edge and rested his racked body against the low stone parapet.

Harkness uncoiled himself from the roan and said: “You lead a life of armchair adventure, Queen? It must be embarrassing when you poke your nose out into the world of men.” He laughed. Ellery eyed the man’s yellow mane and nervy eyes with the unreasoning dislike of the chronic shut-in. That broad chest was untroubled after the gallop.

“Embarrassing to the horse,” said Ellery. “Beautiful view, General. You couldn’t have selected this site blindly. Must be a streak of poetry in your make-up.”

“Poetry your foot, Mr. Queen! I’m a military man.” The old gentleman waddled to Ellery’s side and gazed down over the Hudson River, a blue-glass reflector under the young sun. The cliff was sheer; it fell cleanly to a splinter of beach far below, where Major-General Barrett had his boathouse. A zigzag of steep stone steps in the face of the cliff was the only means of descent.

An old man was seated on the edge of a little jetty below, fishing. He glanced up, and to Ellery’s astonishment sprang to his feet and snapped his free hand up in a stiff salute. Then he very placidly sat down and resumed his fishing.

“Braun,” said the General, beaming. “Old pensioner of mine. Served under me in Mexico. He and Magruder, the old chap at the caretaker’s cottage. You see? Discipline, that’s it... Poetry?” He snorted. “Not for me, Mr. Queen. I like this ledge for its military value. Commands the river. Miniature West Point, b’gad!”

Ellery turned and looked upward. The shelf of rock on which the General had built his home was surrounded on its other three sides by precipitous cliffs, quite unscalable, which towered so high that their crests were swimming in mist. A steep road had been blasted in the living rock of the rearmost cliff; it spiralled down from the top of the mountain, and Ellery still remembered with vertigo the automobile descent the evening before.

“You command the river,” he said dryly, “but an enemy could shoot the hell out of you by commanding that road up there. Or are my tactics infantile?”

The old gentleman spluttered: “Why, I could hold that gateway to the road against an army, man!”

“And the artillery,” murmured Ellery. “Heavens, General, you are prepared.” He glanced with amusement at a small sleek cannon beside the nearby flagpole, its muzzle gaping over the parapet.

“General’s getting ready for the revolution,” said Harkness with a lazy laugh. “We live in parlous times.”

“You sportsmen,” snapped the General, “have no respect whatever for tradition. You know very well this is a sunset gun — you don’t sneer at the one on the Point, do you? That’s the only way Old Glory,” he concluded in a parade-ground voice, “will ever come down on my property, Harkness — to the boom of a cannon salute!”

“I suppose,” smiled the big-game hunter, “my elephant-gun wouldn’t serve the same purpose? On safari I—”

“Ignore the fellow, Mr. Queen,” said the General testily. “We just tolerate him on these week-ends because he’s a friend of Lieutenant Fiske... Too bad you arrived too late last night to see the ceremony. Quite stirring! You’ll see it again at sunset today. Must keep up the old traditions. Part of my life, Mr. Queen... I guess I’m an old fool.”

“Oh, indeed not,” said Ellery hastily. “Traditions are the backbone of the nation; anybody knows that.” Harkness chuckled, and the General looked pleased. Ellery knew the type — retired army man, too old for service, pining for the military life. From what Dick Fiske, the General’s prospective son-in-law, had told him on the way down the night before, Barrett had been a passionate and single-tracked soldier; and he had taken over with him into civilian life as many mementoes of the good old martial days as he could carry. Even his servants were old soldiers; and the house, which bristled with relics of three wars, was run like a regimental barracks.

A groom led their horses away, and they strolled back across the rolling lawns toward the house. Major-General Barrett, Ellery was thinking, must be crawling with money; he had already seen enough to convince him of that. There was a tiled swimming-pool outdoors; a magnificent solarium; a target-range; a gun-room with a variety of weapons that...

“General,” said an agitated voice; and he looked up to see Lieutenant Fiske, his uniform unusually disordered, running toward them. “May I see you a moment alone, sir?”

“Of course, Richard. Excuse me, gentlemen?”

Harkness and Ellery hung back. The Lieutenant said something, his arms jerking nervously; and the old gentleman paled. Then, without another word, both men broke into a run, the General waddling like a startled grandfather gander toward the house.

“I wonder what’s eating Dick,” said Harkness, as he and Ellery followed more decorously.

“Leonie,” ventured Ellery. “I’ve known Fiske for a long time. That ravishing daughter of the regiment is the only unsettling influence the boy’s ever encountered. I hope there’s nothing wrong.”

“Pity if there is,” shrugged the big man. “It promised to be a restful week-end. I had my fill of excitement on my last expedition.”

“Ran into trouble?”

“My boys deserted, and a flood on the Niger did the rest. Lost everything. Lucky to have escaped with my life... Ah, there, Mrs. Nixon. Is anything wrong with Miss Barrett?”

A tall pale woman with red hair and amber eyes looked up from the magazine she was reading. “Leonie? I haven’t seen her this morning. Why?” She seemed not too interested. “Oh, Mr. Queen! That dreadful game we played last night kept me awake half the night. How cm you sleep with all those murdered people haunting you?”

“My difficulty,” grinned Ellery, “is not in sleeping too little, Mrs. Nixon, but in sleeping too much. The original sluggard. No more imagination than an amoeba. Nightmare? You must have something on your conscience.”

“But was it necessary to take our fingerprints, Mr. Queen? I mean, a game’s a game... ”

Ellery chuckled. “I promise to destroy my impromptu little Bureau of Identification at the very first opportunity. No thanks, Harkness; don’t care for any this early in the day.”

“Queen,” said Lieutenant Fiske from the doorway. His brown cheeks were muddy and mottled, and he held himself very stiffly. “Would you mind—?”

“What’s wrong, Lieutenant?” demanded Harkness.

“Has something happened to Leonie?” asked Mrs. Nixon.

“Wrong? Why, nothing at all.” The young officer smiled, took Ellery’s arm, and steered him to the stairs. He was smiling no longer. “Something rotten’s happened, Queen. We’re — we don’t quite know what to do. Lucky you’re here. You might know... ”

“Now, now,” said Ellery gently. “What’s happened?”

“You remember that rope of pearls Leonie wore last night?”

“Oh,” said Ellery.

“It was my engagement gift to her. Belonged to my mother.” The Lieutenant bit his lip. “I’m not — well, a lieutenant in the United States Army can’t buy pearls on his salary. I wanted to give Leonie something — expensive. Foolish of me, I suppose. Anyway, I treasured mother’s pearls for sentimental reasons, too, and—”

“You’re trying to tell me,” said Ellery as they reached the head of the stairs, “that the pearls are gone.”

“Damn it, yes!”

“How much are they worth?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars. My father was wealthy — once.”

Ellery sighed. In the workshop of the cosmos it had been decreed that he should stalk with open eyes among the lame, the halt, and the blind. He lit a cigaret and followed the officer into Leonie Barrett’s bedroom.

There was nothing martial in Major-General Barrett’s bearing now; he was simply a fat old man with sagging shoulders. As for Leonie, she had been crying; and Ellery thought irrelevantly that she had used the hem of her peignoir to stanch her tears. But there was also a set to her chin and a gleam in her eye; and she pounced upon Ellery so quickly that he almost threw his arm up to defend himself.

“Someone’s stolen my necklace,” she said fiercely. “Mr. Queen, you must get it back. You must, do you hear?”

“Leonie, my dear,” began the General in a feeble voice.

“No, father! I don’t care who’s going to be hurt. That... that rope of pearls meant a lot to Dick, and it means a lot to me, and I don’t propose to sit by and let some thief snatch it right from under my nose!”

“But darling,” said the Lieutenant miserably. “After all, your guests... ”

“Hang my guests, and yours, too,” said the young woman with a toss of her head. “I don’t think there’s anything in Mrs. Post’s book which says a thief gathers immunity simply because he’s present on an invitation.”

“But it’s certainly more reasonable to suspect that one of the servants—”

The General’s head came up like a shot. “My dear Richard,” he snorted, “put that notion out of your head. There isn’t a man in my employ who hasn’t been with me for at least twenty years. I’d trust any one of ’em with anything I have. I’ve had proof of their honesty and loyalty a hundred times.”

“Since I’m one of the guests,” said Ellery cheerfully, “I think I’m qualified to pass an opinion. Murder will out, but it was never hindered by a bit of judicious investigation, Lieutenant. Your fiancée’s quite right. When did you discover the theft, Miss Barrett?”

“A half-hour ago, when I awoke.” Leonie pointed to the dressing-table beside her four-posted bed. “Even before I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes I saw that the pearls were gone. Because the lid of my jewel-box was up, as you see.”

“And the box was closed when you retired last night?”

“Better than that. I awoke at six this morning feeling thirsty. I got out of bed for a glass of water, and I distinctly remember that the box was closed at that time. Then I went back to sleep.”

Ellery strolled over and glanced down at the box. Then he blew smoke and said: “Happy chance. It’s a little after eight now. You discovered the theft, then, at a quarter of eight or so. Therefore the pearls were stolen between six and seven-forty-five. Didn’t you hear anything, Miss Barrett?”

Leonie smiled ruefully. “I’m a disgustingly sound sleeper, Mr. Queen. That’s something you’ll learn, Dick. And then for years I’ve suspected that I snore, but nobody ever—”

The Lieutenant blushed. The General said: “Leonie,” not very convincingly, and Leonie made a face and began to weep again.

“What the deuce are we to do?” snarled the General. “We can’t... well, hang it all, you just can’t search people. Nasty business! If the pearls weren’t so valuable I’d say forget the whole ruddy thing.”

“A body search is scarcely necessary, General,” said Ellery. “No thief would be so stupid as to carry the loot about on his person. He’d expect the police to be called; and the police, at least, are notoriously callous to the social niceties.”

“Police,” said Leonie in a damp voice, raising her head. “Oh, goodness. Can’t we—”

“I think,” said Ellery, “we can struggle along without them for the proverbial nonce. On the other hand, a search of the premises... Any objection to my prowling about?”

“None whatever,” snapped Leonie. “Mr. Queen, you prowl!”

“I believe I shall. By the way, who besides the four of us — and the thief — knows about this?”

“Not another soul.”

“Very good. Now, discretion is our shibboleth today. Please pretend nothing’s happened. The thief will know we’re acting, but he’ll be constrained to act, too, and perhaps... ” He smoked thoughtfully. “Suppose you dress and join your guests downstairs, Miss Barrett. Come, come, get that Wimpole Street expression off your face, my dear!”

“Yes, sir,” said Leonie, trying out a smile.

“You gentlemen might cooperate. Keep everyone away from this floor while I go into my prowling act. I shouldn’t like to have Mrs. Nixon, for example, catch me red-handed among her brassieres.”

“Oh,” said Leonie suddenly. And she stopped smiling.

“What’s the matter?” asked the Lieutenant in an anxious voice.

“Well, Dorothy Nixon is up against it. Horribly short of funds. No, that’s a... a rotten thing to say.” Leonie flushed. “Goodness, I’m half-naked! Now, please, clear out.”

“Nothing,” said Ellery in an undertone to Lieutenant Fiske after breakfast. “It isn’t anywhere in the house.”

“Damnation,” said the officer. “You’re positive?”

“Quite. I’ve been through all the rooms. Kitchen. Solarium. Pantry. Armory. I’ve even visited the General’s cellar.”

Fiske gnawed his lower lip. Leonie called gaily: “Dorothy and Mr. Harkness and I are going into the pool for a plunge. Dick! Coming?”

“Please go,” said Ellery softly; and he added: “And while you’re plunging, Lieutenant, search that pool.”

Fiske looked startled. Then he nodded grimly and followed the others.

“Nothing, eh?” said the General glumly. “I saw you talking to Richard.”

“Not yet.” Ellery glanced from the house, into which the others had gone to change into bathing costume, to the riverside. “Suppose we stroll down there, General. I want to ask your man Braun some questions.”

They made their way cautiously down the stone steps in the cliff to the sliver of beach below, and found the old pensioner placidly engaged in polishing the brasswork of the General’s launch.

“Mornin’, sir,” said Braun, snapping to attention.

“At ease,” said the General moodily. “Braun, this gentleman wants to ask you some questions.”

“Very simple ones,” smiled Ellery. “I saw you fishing, Braun, at about eight this morning. How long had you been sitting on the jetty?”

“Well, sir,” replied the old man, scratching his left arm, “on and off since ha’-past five. Bitin’ early, they are. Got a fine mess.”

“Did you have the stairs there in view all the time?”

“Sure thing, sir.”

“Has anyone come down this morning?” Braun shook his gray thatch. “Has anyone approached from the river?”

“Not a one, sir.”

“Did anyone drop or throw anything down here or into the water from the cliff up there?”

“If they’d had, I’d ’a’ heard the splash, sir. No, sir.”

“Thank you. Oh, by the way, Braun, you’re here all day?”

“Well, only till early afternoon, unless someone’s usin’ the launch, sir.”

“Keep your eyes open, then. General Barrett is especially anxious to know if anyone comes down this afternoon. If someone does, watch closely and report.”

“General’s orders, sir?” asked Braun, cocking a shrewd eye.

“That’s right, Braun,” sighed the General. “Dismissed.”

“And now,” said Ellery, as they climbed to the top of the cliff, “let’s see what friend Magruder has to say.”

Magruder was a gigantic old Irishman with leathery cheeks and the eyes of a top-sergeant. He occupied a rambling little cottage at the only gateway to the estate.

“No, sir,” he said emphatically, “ain’t been a soul near here all mornin’. Nob’dy, in or out.”

“But how can you be sure, Magruder?”

The Irishman stiffened. “From a quarter to six till seven-thirty I was a-settin’ right there in full view o’ the gate a-cleanin’ some o’ the Gin’ral’s guns, sir. And afther I was trimmin’ the privets.”

“You may take Magruder’s word as gospel,” snapped the General.

“I do, I do,” said Ellery soothingly. “This is the only vehicular exit from the estate, of course, sir?”

“As you see.”

“Yes, yes. And the cliffside... Only a lizard could scale those rocky side-walls. Very interesting. Thanks, Magruder.”

“Well, what now?” demanded the General, as they walked back toward the house.

Ellery frowned. “The essence of any investigation, General, is the question of how many possibilities you can eliminate. This little hunt grows enchanting on that score. You say you trust your servants implicitly?”

“With anything.”

“Then round up as many as you can spare and have them go over every inch of the grounds with a fine comb. Fortunately your estate isn’t extensive, and the job shouldn’t take long.”

“Hmm.” The General’s nostrils quivered. “B’gad, there’s an idea! I see, I see. Splendid, Mr. Queen. You may trust my lads. Old soldiers, every one of ’em; they’ll love it. And the trees?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The trees, man, the trees! Crotches of ’em; good hiding-places.”

“Oh,” said Ellery gravely, “the trees. By all means search them.”

“Leave that to me,” said the General fiercely; and he trotted off breathing fire.

Ellery sauntered over to the pool, which churned with vigorous bodies, and sat down on a bench to watch. Mrs. Nixon waved a shapely arm and dived under, pursued by a bronzed giant who turned out to be Harkness when his dripping curls reappeared. A slim slick figure shot out of the water almost at Ellery’s feet and in the same motion scaled the edge of the pool.

“I’ve done it,” murmured Leonie, smiling and preening as if to invite Ellery’s admiration.

“Done what?” mumbled Ellery, grinning back.

“Searched them.”

“Searched—! I don’t understand.”

“Oh, are all men fundamentally stupid?” Leonie leaned back and shook out her hair. “Why d’ye think I suggested the pool? So that everyone would have to take his clothes off! All I did was slip into a bedroom or two before going down myself. I searched all our clothes. It was possible the... the thief had slipped the pearls into some unsuspecting pocket, you see. Well... nothing.”

Ellery looked at her. “My dear young woman, I’d like to play Browning to your Ba, come to think of it... But their bathing-suits—”

Leonie colored. Then she said firmly: “That was a long, six-stranded rope. If you think Dorothy Nixon has it on her person now, in that bathing-suit...” Ellery glanced at Mrs. Nixon.

“I can’t say,” he chuckled, “that any of you in your present costumes could conceal an object larger than a fly’s wing. Ah, there, Lieutenant! How’s the water?”

“No good,” said Fiske, thrusting his chin over the pool’s edge.

“Why, Dick!” exclaimed Leonie. “I thought you liked—”

“Your fiancé,” murmured Ellery, “has just informed me that your pearls are nowhere in the pool, Miss Barrett.”

Mrs. Nixon slapped Harkness’s face, brought up her naked leg, set her rosy heel against the man’s wide chin, and shoved. Harkness laughed and went under.

“Swine,” said Mrs. Nixon pleasantly, climbing out.

“It’s your own fault,” said Leonie. “I told you not to wear that bathing-suit.”

“Look,” said the Lieutenant darkly, “who’s talking.”

“If you will invite Tarzan for a week-end,” began Mrs. Nixon, and she stopped. “What on earth are those men doing out there? They’re crawling!”

Everybody looked. Ellery sighed. “I believe the General is tired of our company and is directing some sort of wargame with his veterans. Does he often get that way, Miss Barrett?”

“Infantry manoeuvres,” said the Lieutenant quickly.

“That’s a silly game,” said Mrs. Nixon with spirit, taking off her cap. “What’s on for this afternoon, Leonie? Let’s do something exciting!”

“I think,” grinned Harkness, clambering out of the pool like a great monkey, “I’d like to play an exciting game, Mrs. Nixon, if you’re going to be in it.” The sun gleamed on his wet torso.

“Animal,” said Mrs. Nixon. “What shall it be, Mr. Queen?”

“Lord,” said Ellery. “I don’t know. Treasure hunt? It’s a little passé, but at least it isn’t too taxing on the brain.”

“That,” said Leonie, “has all the earmarks of a nasty crack. But I think it’s a glorious idea. You arrange things, Mr. Queen.”

“Treasure hunt?” Mrs. Nixon considered it. “Mmm. Sounds nice. Make the treasure something worth while, won’t you? I’m stony.”

Ellery paused in the act of lighting a cigaret. Then he threw his match away. “If I’m elected... When shall it be — after luncheon?” He grinned. “May as well do it up brown. I’ll fix the clues and things. Keep in the house, the lot of you. I don’t want any spying. Agreed?”

“We’re in your hands,” said Mrs. Nixon gaily.

“Lucky dog,” sighed Harkness.

“See you later, then.” Ellery strolled off toward the river. He heard Leonie’s fresh voice exhorting her guests to hurry into the house to dress for luncheon.

Major-General Barrett found him at noon standing by the parapet and gazing absently at the opposite shore, half a mile away. The old gentleman’s cheeks were bursting with blood and perspiration, and he looked angry and tired.

“Damn all thieves for black-hearted scoundrels!” he exploded, mopping his bald spot. Then he said inconsistently: “I’m beginning to think Leonie simply mislaid it.”

“You haven’t found it?”

“No sign of it.”

“Then where did she mislay it?”

“Oh, thunderation, I suppose you’re right. I’m sick of the whole blasted business. To think that a guest under my roof—”

“Who said,” sighed Ellery, “anything about a guest, General?”

The old gentleman glared. “Eh? What’s that? What d’ye mean?”

“Nothing at all. You don’t know. I don’t know. Nobody but the thief knows. Shouldn’t jump to conclusions, sir. Now, tell me. The search has been thorough?” Major-General Barrett groaned. “You’ve gone through Magruder’s cottage, too?”

“Certainly, certainly.”

“The stables?”

“My dear sir—”

“The trees?”

“And the trees,” snapped the General. “Every last place.”

“Good!”

“What’s good about it?”

Ellery looked astonished. “My dear General, it’s superb! I’m prepared for it. In fact, I anticipated it. Because we’re dealing with a very clever person.”

“You know—” gasped the General.

“Very little concretely. But I see a glimmer. Now will you go back to the house, sir, and freshen up? You’re fatigued, and you’ll need your energies for this afternoon. We’re to play a game.”

“Oh, heavens,” said the General; and he trudged off toward the house, shaking his head. Ellery watched him until he disappeared.

Then he squatted on the parapet and gave himself over to thought.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” began Ellery after they had assembled on the veranda at two o’clock, “I have spent the last two hours hard at work — a personal sacrifice which I gladly contribute to the gaiety of nations, and in return for which I ask only your lusty cooperation.”

“Hear,” said the General gloomily.

“Come, come, General, don’t be anti-social. Of course, you all understand the game?” Ellery lit a cigaret. “I have hidden the ‘treasure’ somewhere. I’ve left a trail to it — a winding trail, you understand, which you must follow step by step. At each step I’ve dropped a clue which, correctly interpreted, leads to the next step. The race is, naturally, to the mentally swift. This game puts a premium on brains.”

“That,” said Mrs. Nixon ruefully, “lets me out.” She was dressed in tight sweater and tighter slacks, with a blue ribbon in her hair.

“Poor Dick,” groaned Leonie. “I’m sure I shall have to pair up with him. He wouldn’t get to first base by himself.”

Fiske grinned, and Harkness drawled: “As long as we’re splitting up, I choose Mrs. N. Looks as if you’ll have to go it alone, General.”

“Perhaps,” said the General hopefully, “you young people would like to play by yourselves... ”

“By the way,” said Ellery, “all the clues are in the form of quotations, you know.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Nixon. “You mean such things as ‘first in war, first in peace’?”

“Ah — yes. Yes. Don’t worry about the source; it’s only the words themselves that concern you. Ready?”

“Wait a minute,” said Harkness. “What’s the treasure?”

Ellery threw his cigaret, which had gone out, into an ashtray. “Mustn’t tell. Get set, now! Let me quote you the first clue. It comes from the barbed quill of our old friend, Dean Swift — but disregard that. The quotation is—” he paused, and they leaned forward eagerly — “ ‘first (a fish) should swim in the sea.’ ”

The General said: “Hrrumph! Damned silly,” and settled in his chair. But Mrs. Nixon’s amber eyes shone and she jumped up.

“Is that all?” she cried. “Goodness, that isn’t the least bit difficult, Mr. Queen. Come on, Tarzan,” and she sped away over the lawns, followed by Harkness, who was grinning. They made for the parapet.

“Poor Dorothy,” sighed Leonie. “She means well, but she isn’t exactly blessed with brains. She’s taking the wrong tack, of course.”

“You’d put her hard a-port, I suppose?” murmured Ellery.

“Mr. Queen! You obviously didn’t mean us to search the entire Hudson River. Consequently it’s a more restricted body of water you had in mind.” She sprang off the veranda.

“The pool!” cried Lieutenant Fiske, scrambling after her.

“Remarkable woman, your daughter, sir,” said Ellery, following the pair with his eyes. “I’m beginning to think Dick Fiske is an extraordinarily fortunate young man.”

“Mother’s brain,” said the General, beaming suddenly. “B’gad, I am interested.” He waddled rapidly off the porch.

They found Leonie complacently deflating a large rubber fish which was still dripping from its immersion in the pool.

“Here it is,” she said. “Come on, Dick, pay attention. Not now, silly! Mr. Queen’s looking. What’s this? ‘Then it should swim in butter.’ Butter, butter... Pantry, of course!” And she was off like the wind.

Ellery replaced the note in the rubber fish, inflated it, stoppered the hole, and tossed the thing back into the pool.

“The others will be here soon enough. There they are! I think they’ve caught on already. Come along, General.”

Leonie was on her knees in the pantry, before the huge refrigerator, digging a scrap of paper out of a butter-tub. “Goo,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Did you have to use butter? Read it, Dick. I’m filthy.”

Lieutenant Fiske declaimed: “ ‘And at last, sirrah, it should swim in good claret.’ ”

“Mr. Queen! I’m ashamed of you. This is too easy.”

“It gets harder,” said Ellery dryly, “as it goes along.” He watched the young couple dash through the doorway to the cellar, and then replaced the note in the tub. As he and the General closed the cellar-door behind them, they heard the clatter of Mrs. Nixon’s feet in the pantry.

“Damned if Leonie hasn’t forgotten all about that necklace of hers,” muttered the General as they watched from the stairs. “Just like a woman!”

“I doubt very much if she has,” murmured Ellery.

“Whee!” cried Leonie. “Here it is... What’s this, Mr. Queen — Shakespeare?” She had pried a note from between two dusty bottles in the wine-cellar and was frowning over it.

“What’s it say, Leonie?” asked Lieutenant Fiske.

“ ‘Under the. greenwood tree’... Greenwood tree.” She replaced the note slowly. “It is getting harder. Have we any greenwood trees, father?”

The General said wearily: “Blessed if I know. Never heard of ’em. You, Richard?” The Lieutenant looked dubious.

“All I know about the greenwood tree,” frowned Leonie, “is that it’s something in As You Like It and a novel by Thomas Hardy. But—”

“Come on, Tarzan!” shrieked Mrs. Nixon from above them. “They’re still here. Out of the way, you two men! No fair setting up hazards.”

Leonie scowled. Mrs. Nixon came flying down the cellar stairs followed by Harkness, who was still grinning, and snatched the note from the shelf. Her face fell. “Greek to me.”

“Let me see it.” Harkness scanned the note, and laughed aloud. “Good boy, Queen,” he chuckled. “Chlorosplenium aruginosum. You need a little botany in jungle work. I’ve seen that tree any number of times on the estate.” He bounded up the stairs, grinned once more at Ellery and Major-General Barrett, and vanished.

“Damn!” said Leonie, and she led the charge after Harkness.

When they came up with him, the big man was leaning against the bark of an ancient and enormous shade-tree, reading a scrap of paper. The bole of the tree was a vivid green which looked fungoid in origin.

“Green wood!” exclaimed Mrs. Nixon. “That was clever, Mr. Queen.”

Leonie looked chagrined. “A man would take the honors. I’d never have thought it of you, Mr. Harkness. What’s in the note?”

Harkness read aloud: “ ‘And... seeks that which he lately threw away... ’ ”

“Which who lately threw away?” complained the Lieutenant. “That’s ambiguous.”

“Obviously,” said Harkness, “the pronoun couldn’t refer to the finder of the note. Queen couldn’t possibly have known who would track it down. Consequently... Of course!” And he sped off in the direction of the house, thumbing his nose.

“I don’t like that man,” said Leonie. “Dickie, haven’t you any brains at all? And now we have to follow him again. I think you’re mean, Mr. Queen.”

“I leave it to you, General,” said Ellery. “Did I want to play games?” But they were all streaming after Harkness, and Mrs. Nixon was in the van, her red hair flowing behind her like a pennon.

Ellery reached the veranda, the General puffing behind him, to find Harkness holding something aloft out of reach of Mrs. Nixon’s clutching fingers. “No, you don’t. To the victor—”

“But how did you know, you nasty man?” cried Leonie.

Harkness lowered his arm; he was holding a half-consumed cigaret. “Stood to reason. The quotation had to refer to Queen himself. And the only thing I’d seen him ‘lately’ throw away was this cigaret-butt just before we started.” He took the cigaret apart; imbedded in the tobacco near the tip there was a tiny twist of paper. He smoothed it out and read its message.

Then he read it again, slowly.

“Well, for pity’s sake!” snapped Mrs. Nixon. “Don’t be a pig, Tarzan. If you don’t know the answer, give the rest of us a chance.” She snatched the paper from him and read it. “ ‘Seeking... even in the cannon’s mouth.’ ”

“Cannon’s mouth?” panted the General. “Why—”

“Why, that’s pie!” giggled the red-haired woman, and ran.

She was seated defensively astride the sunset gun overlooking the river when they reached her. “This is a fine how-d’ye-do,” she complained. “Cannon’s mouth! How the deuce can you look into the cannon’s mouth when the cannon’s mouth is situated in thin air seventy-five feet over the Hudson River? Pull this foul thing back a bit, Lieutenant!”

Leonie was helpless with laughter. “You idiot! How do you think Magruder loads this gun — through the muzzle? There’s a chamber in the back.”

Lieutenant Fiske did something expertly to the mechanism at the rear of the sunset gun, and in a twinkling had swung back the safe-like little door of the breech-block and revealed a round orifice. He thrust his hand in, and his jaw dropped. “It’s the treasure!” he shouted. “By George, Dorothy, you’ve won!”

Mrs. Nixon slid off the cannon, gurgling: “Gimme, gimme!” like an excited gamine. She bumped him rudely aside and pulled out a wad of oily cotton batting.

“What is it?” cried Leonie, crowding in.

“I... Why, Leonie, you darling!” Mrs. Nixon’s face fell. “I knew it was too good to be true. Treasure! I should say so.”

“My pearls!” screamed Leonie. She snatched the rope of snowy gems from Mrs. Nixon, hugging them to her bosom; and then she turned to Ellery with the oddest look of inquiry.

“Well, I’ll be... be blasted,” said the General feebly. “Did you take ’em, Queen?”

“Not exactly,” said Ellery. “Stand still, please. That means everybody. We have Mrs. Nixon and Mr. Harkness possibly at a disadvantage. You see, Miss Barrett’s pearls were stolen this morning.”

“Stolen?” Harkness lifted an eyebrow.

“Stolen!” gasped Mrs. Nixon. “So that’s why—”

“Yes,” said Ellery. “Now, perceive. Someone filches a valuable necklace. Problem: to get it away. Was the necklace still on the premises? It was; it had to be. There are only two physical means of egress from the estate: by the cliff-road yonder, at the entrance to which is Magruder’s cottage; and by the river below. Everywhere else there are perpendicular cliffs impossible to climb. And their crests are so high that it was scarcely feasible for an accomplice, say, to let a rope down and haul the loot up... Now, since before six Magruder had the land exit under observation and Braun the river exit. Neither had seen a soul; and Braun said that nothing had been thrown over the parapet to the beach or water, or he would have heard the impact or splash. Since the thief had made no attempt to dispose of the pearls by the only two possible routes, it was clear then that the pearls were still on the estate.”

Leonie’s face was pinched and pale now, and she kept her eyes steadfastly on Ellery. The General looked embarrassed.

“But the thief,” said Ellery, “must have had a plan of disposal, a plan that would circumvent all normal contingencies. Knowing that the theft might be discovered at once, he would expect an early arrival of the police and plan accordingly; people don’t take the loss of a twenty-five-thousand-dollar necklace without a fight. If he expected police, he expected a search; and if he expected a search, he could not have planned to hide his loot in an obvious place — such as on his person, in his luggage, in the house, or in the usual places on the estate. Of course, he might have meant to dig a hole somewhere and bury the pearls; but I didn’t think so, because he would in that case still have the problem of disposal, with the estate guarded.

“As a matter of fact, I myself searched every inch of the house; and the General’s servants searched every inch of the grounds and outbuildings... just to make sure. We called no police, but acted as police ourselves. And the pearls weren’t found.”

“But—” began Lieutenant Fiske in a puzzled way.

“Please, Lieutenant. It was plain, then, that the thief, whatever his plan, had discarded any normal use of either the land or water route. As a means of getting the pearls off the estate. Had he intended to walk off with them himself, or mail them to an accomplice? Hardly, if he anticipated a police investigation and surveillance. Besides, remember that he deliberately planned and committed his theft with the foreknowledge that a detective was in the house. And while I lay no claim to exceptional formidability, you must admit it took a daring, clever thief to concoct and carry out a theft under the circumstances. I felt justified in assuming that, whatever his plan was, it was itself daring and clever; not stupid and commonplace.

“But if he had discarded the normal means of disposal, he must have had in mind an extraordinary means, still using one of the only two possible routes. And then I recalled that there was one way the river route could be utilized to that end which was so innocent in appearance that it would probably be successful even if a whole regiment of infantry were on guard. And I knew that must be the answer.”

“The sunset gun,” said Leonie in a low voice.

“Precisely, Miss Barrett, the sunset gun. By preparing a package with the pearls inside, opening the breech-block of the gun and thrusting the package into the chamber and walking away, he disposed very simply of the bothersome problem of getting the pearls away. You see, anyone with a knowledge of ordnance and ballistics would know that this gun, like all guns which fire salutes, uses ‘blank’ ammunition. That is, there is no explosive shell; merely a charge of powder which goes off with a loud noise and a burst of smoke.

“Now, while this powder is a noise-maker purely, it still possesses a certain propulsive power — not much, but enough for the thief’s purpose. Consequently Magruder would come along at sundown today, slip the blank into the breech, pull the firing-cord, and — boom! away go the pearls in a puff of concealing smoke, to be hurled the scant twenty feet or so necessary to make it clear the little beach below and fell into the water.”

“But how—” spluttered the General, red as a cherry.

“Obviously, the container would have to float. Aluminum, probably, or something equally strong yet light. Then an accomplice must be in the scheme — someone to idle along in the Hudson below in a boat at sunset, pick up the container, and cheerfully sail away. At that time Braun is not on duty, as he told me; but even if he were, I doubt if he would have noticed anything in the noise and smoke of the gun.”

“Accomplice, eh?” roared the General. “I’ll ’phone—”

Ellery sighed. “Already done, General. I telephoned the local police at one o’clock to be on the lookout. Our man will be waiting at sundown, and if you stick to schedule with your salute to the dying sun, they’ll nab him red-handed.”

“But where’s this container, or can?” asked the Lieutenant.

“Oh, safely hidden away,” said Ellery dryly. “Very safely.”

“You hid it? But why?”

Ellery smoked peacefully for a moment. “You know, there’s a fat-bellied little god who watches over such as me. Last night we played a murder-game. To make it realistic, and to illustrate a point, I took everyone’s fingerprints with the aid of that handy little kit I carry about. I neglected to destroy the exhibits. This afternoon, before our treasure hunt, I found the container in the gun here — naturally, having reasoned out the hiding-place, I went straight to it for confirmation. And what do you think I found on the can? Fingerprints!” Ellery grimaced. “Disappointing, isn’t it? But then our clever thief was so sure of himself he never dreamed anyone would uncover his cache before the gun was fired. And so he was careless. It was child’s-play, of course, to compare the prints on the can with the master sets from last night’s game.” He paused. “Well?” he said.

There was silence for as long as one can hold a breath; and in the silence they heard the flapping of the flag overhead.

Then, his hands unclenching, Harkness said lightly: “You’ve got me, pal.”

“Ah,” said Ellery. “So good of you, Mr. Harkness.”

They stood about the gun at sunset, and old Magruder yanked the cord, and the gun roared as the flag came down, and Major-General Barrett and Lieutenant Fiske stood rigidly at attention. The report echoed and reechoed, filling the air with hollow thunder.

“Look at the creature,” gurgled Mrs. Nixon a moment later, leaning over the parapet and staring down. “He looks like a bug running around in circles.”

They joined her silently. The Hudson below was a steel mirror reflecting the last copper rays of the sun. Except for a small boat with an outboard motor the river was free of craft; and the man was hurling his boat this way and that in puzzled parabolas, scanning the surface of the river anxiously. Suddenly he looked up and saw the faces watching him; and with ludicrous haste frantically swept his boat about and shot it for the opposite shore.

“I still don’t understand,” complained Mrs. Nixon, “why you called the law off that person, Mr. Queen. He’s a criminal, isn’t he?”

Ellery sighed. “Only in intent. And then it was Miss Barrett’s idea, not mine. I can’t say I’m sorry. While I hold no brief for Harkness and his accomplice, who’s probably some poor devil seduced by our dashing friend into doing the work of disposal, I’m rather relieved Miss Barrett hasn’t been vindictive. Harkness has been touched and spoiled by the life he leads; it’s really not his fault. When you spend half your life in jungles, the civilized moralities lose their edge. He needed the money, and so he took the pearls.”

“He’s punished enough,” said Leonie gently. “Almost as much as if we’d turned him over to the police instead of sending him packing. He’s through socially. And since I’ve my pearls back—”

“Interesting problem,” said Ellery dreamily. “I suppose you all saw the significance of the treasure hunt?”

Lieutenant Fiske looked blank. “I guess I’m thick. I don’t.”

“Pshaw! At the time I suggested the game I had no ulterior motive. But when the reports came in, and I deduced that the pearls were in the sunset gun, I saw a way to use the game to trap the thief.” He smiled at Leonie, who grinned back. “Miss Barrett was my accomplice. I asked her privately to start brilliantly — in order to lull suspicion — and slow up as she went along. The mere use of the gun had made me suspect Harkness, who knows guns; I wanted to test him.

“Well, Harkness came through. As Miss Barrett slowed up he forged ahead; and he displayed cleverness in detecting the clue of the ‘greenwood’ tree. He displayed acute observation in spotting the clue of the cigaret. Two rather difficult clues, mind you. Then, at the easiest of all, he becomes puzzled! He didn’t ‘know’ what was meant by the cannon’s mouth! Even Mrs. Nixon — forgive me — spotted that one. Why had Harkness been reluctant to go to the gun? It could only have been because he knew what was in it.”

“But it all seems so unnecessary,” objected the Lieutenant. “If you had the fingerprints, the case was solved. Why the rigmarole?”

Ellery flipped his butt over the parapet. “My boy,” he said, “have you ever played poker?”

“Of course I have.”

Leonie cried: “You fox! Don’t tell me—”

“Bluff,” said Ellery sadly. “Sheer bluff. There weren’t any fingerprints on the can.”