The programme was carried out in due course. By ten o’clock they were back on the mountain top with the surveying instruments. Placing the transit upon the tripod marks under the tree on the edge of the glade, Tregarvon took a forward sight to the eastward, with Carfax holding the target-staff on the spot where the burnt torch was found. Then, without changing the position of the instrument, Tregarvon signalled Carfax to go back, halting him at the cliff edge, and moving him to right and left until the target was once more in line with the cross-hairs of the telescope. “What developments?” he inquired, when the staff-bearer came up. “Nothing startling. Your line of sight merely picked up the second of the two marked trees, whatever significance that may have.” “You may be sure it has some significance, if we were shrewd enough to figure it out,” Tregarvon asserted. Then: “What will you do with yourself until dinner-time?” “Oh, I don’t know; chase around in the car awhile, maybe, if you can’t use me here. Perhaps I may be able to pick up a clue or so--if I can find anybody to talk to.” Tregarvon stripped off his coat and went to work with Rucker and the helpers, and in this manner the better part of the day was accounted for. Late in the afternoon, when the blacksmithing of new irons left him without an occupation, he yielded to a prompting which had been urging him all day, and went for a long tramp which took him over the route covered by the drilling plant in its several removals. The sun had gone behind the mountain when he finally came out at the tramhead and signalled for the cable-car to take him down. Tryon answered the signal and started the machinery, and in a few minutes Tregarvon was landed at the Coalville level, where he found Carfax waiting for him on the porch of the office-building. “I beat you to it,” said the golden youth; and then, whimsically: “What do you know now more than you knew before you knew so little as you know now?” Tregarvon cast himself down upon the porch-step. “I’ll tell you, after a bit. Did you find out anything new?” “Nothing very conclusive. Item number one is that there are only two horses in the Highmount stables; neither of them white, and neither with a broken toe-calk on the left hind foot.” Tregarvon smiled wearily. “More negative information; it’s always negative.” “Yes; and you may put into the same basket the item that no one of the half-dozen people I asked knew of any white horse owned on the mountain. But I picked up one little pointer that belongs in the other basket--the positive. I had luncheon at Highmount--upon Mrs. Caswell’s very pressing invitation. At table, Miss Richardia wanted to know how you came to plant your drilling-machine right in the middle of the old burying-ground.” “What’s that?” said Tregarvon. “You don’t mean to say that the glade is a graveyard!”