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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Black Box"

Quest
looked out of the tent in which they had been sitting and came back again.
"Well?"
Laura lifted her skirt and showed an unusual projection underneath.
"Lenora and I have pinned up our petticoats," she announced. "We've got
plenty of food and a bottle of water."
Quest threw open the white Arab cloak which he had been wearing. He had
three rifles strapped around him.
"The Professor's got the ammunition," he said, "and we've five horses
tethered a hundred paces along the track we came by, just behind the
second tree turning to the left. I want you all to go there now at once
and take the rifles. There isn't a soul in the camp and you can carry them
wrapped in this cloak. I'll join you in ten minutes."
"What about Craig?" the Professor enquired.
"I am seeing to him," Quest replied.
Lenora hesitated.
"Isn't it rather a risk?" she whispered fearfully.
Quest's face was suddenly stern.
"Craig is going back with us," he said. "I'll be careful, Lenora. Don't
worry."
He strolled out of the tent and came back again.
"The coast's clear," he announced. "Off you go.... One moment," he added,
"there are some papers in this little box of mine which one of you ought
to take care of."
He bent hastily over the little wallet, which never left him. Suddenly a
little exclamation broke from his lips. The Professor peered over his
shoulder.
"What is it?"
Quest never said a word. From one of the spaces of the wallet he drew out
a small black box, removed the lid and held out the card.


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