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Dwyer, James Francis

"The White Waterfall"


We must have remained on guard for twenty minutes or more, but there was
no sign of the spy. Around us the massive structure cast a patch of
velvety shadow, but not the slightest sound came from above.
Holman tired of the inactivity, and stepped across to where I was
standing. "I'm going to climb that chestnut tree and see if the beggar
is still there," he murmured. "You stop here till I take an
observation."
He darted across to the big Pacific chestnut and climbed hurriedly,
while I walked round and round the square pillars and strained my ears
for the slightest sound that would give a hint that the person on the
roof of the mysterious table was preparing to descend.
A low whistle from Holman pierced the silence, and I answered.
"Come up here," he cried softly. "He's given us the slip."
I climbed the tree to the branch where the young fellow sat awaiting me.
From his position he had a clear view of the top of the big table, and
as I reached him I looked through an opening in the thick leaves. The
top of the stone was empty!
"Do you think he slipped down while I was climbing the tree?" asked
Holman.


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