“I am. I’ve been trying to detect the origin of the human race, for years now,” Abington smiled. “It’s the same kind of figuring brought down to modern conditions. If you’re ready, sheriff, we’ll get underway.” So back they went, roaring up the long rough trail to the cañon and on to Tonopah. They did not meet a soul on the way, nor did they overtake Bill Jonathan and the roadster. Neither did they glimpse anywhere a sign of his turning aside from the main highway, though Park’s eyes watered from watching intently the trail. Abington proved to be a scientifically reckless driver and a silent one withal. Within an incredibly short time he landed a grateful deputy at the sheriff’s office in Tonopah, bade him an unperturbed adieu, drove his car into a garage and established himself comfortably in the best hotel the town afforded--all with the brisk, purposeful air of one who is clearing away small matters so that he may take up the business which really engrosses his mind. In his room at the hotel John Abington dragged the most comfortable chair directly under the two-globe chandelier, lighted a cigarette from the pasteboard box which he took from his pocket, and pulled out the leather cigarette case as if this was what he had been all along preparing to do. “Got a tack from the upholstery, no doubt, for a stylus,” he mused. “Old car--binding probably loose on the door pocket--that’s where it gives first. H’m! That’s what he waited for. Knew he meant to escape, of course--saw it in his eyes. H’m! Let’s see, now.” Abington blew a cloud of smoke and thoughtfully examined the case as he turned it over slowly in his hand, just as he had done when he picked it up in the cañon road. As he studied it his lips moved in that silent musing speech which was his habit --the black beard offering perfect concealment for his soundless whisperings. “H’m! Clever of him--hieroglyphics adapted to code work. Let’s see. The old Babylonian ‘chain of evil’--three links, meaning ‘not so bad.’ Following that, a man. Humph! That’s Bill himself, no doubt. “Nest--h’m!--that’s Egyptian; the old Egyptian symbol denoting the number of days in a journey, but with the Babylonian and Manchurian moon month at the end. Probably meant a month’s journey, and didn’t know the sign for it. Bill, my lad, you show intelligence above the average layman, at least. “Now, what’s all this? Water sign, mountains, stopping place-- Bill descended to picture writing there, I see! That’s the mountain across from my camp where I took Bill in and fed him--gave him my best hiking boots, too, by Jove! My camp by the river-- Bill, you are ingenious! “Without a doubt you wish me to understand that within a month you will be at my old camp by the river--counting on more food and more boots, perhaps! H’m! I don’t just know about that. [Illustration: Bill’s message, written in hieroglyphics such as are found among the rock carvings of Nevada.]