The publican cleared his throat, glanced sideways at Foster. "The gentlemen wouldna be from the University now, I suppose?" he said. "Let's just say," Foster said easily, smiling, "that we have a great interest in these bits of lore--an interest supported by modest funds, of course." The publican made a show of wiping at the rings on the table top. "A costly business, I wager," he said. "Digging about in odd places and all. Now, knowing where to dig; that's important, I'll be bound." "Very important," Foster said. "Worth five pounds, easily." "Twere my granfer told me of the spot; took me out by moonlight, he did, and showed me where his granfer had showed him. Told me it were a fine great secret, the likes of which a simple man could well take pride in." "And an additional five pounds as a token of my personal esteem," Foster said. The publican eyed me. "Well, a secret as was handed down father to son...." "And, of course, my associate wishes to express his esteem, too," Foster said. "Another five pounds worth." "That's all the esteem the budget will bear, Mr. Foster," I said. I got out the fifteen pounds and passed the money across to him. "I hope you haven't forgotten those people back home who wanted to talk to us. They'll be getting in touch with us any time now, I'll bet." * * * * * Foster rolled up the bills and held them in his hand. "That's true, Mr. Legion," he said. "Perhaps we shouldn't take the time...." "But being it's for the advancement of science," the publican said, "I'm willing to make the sacrifice." "We'll want to go out tonight," Foster said. "We have a very tight schedule." The landlord dickered with Foster for another five minutes before he agreed to guide us to the spot where the skeleton had been found, as soon as the pub was closed for the night. He took the money and went back to the bar. "Now tell me," I began. "Look at the sign-board again," Foster said. I looked. The skull smiled, holding up a hand. "I see it," I said. "But it doesn't explain why you handed over our last buck--" "Look at the hand," Foster said. "Look at the ring on the finger." I looked again. A heavy ring was painted on the bony index finger, with a pattern of concentric circles. It was a duplicate of the one on Foster's finger. "Don't drink too much," Foster said. "You may need your wits about you tonight." * * * * * The publican pulled the battered Morris Minor to the side of the highway and set the brake. "This is as close as we best take the machine," he said. We got out, looked across the rolling plain where the megaliths of Stonehenge loomed against the last glow of sunset.