Dead Man's Quarry Read Online Free PDF

all right, because her bike’s quite intact.”
    â€œOh, that’s all right, then!” Nora was relieved. The reckless Isabel was a bit of a responsibility as a guest. “She’ll turn up. Hullo, here’s father. Wasn’t it a lovely run?”
    â€œI should have enjoyed it more if you children hadn’t been so reckless. I was expecting every moment to have to jump off and set a broken limb, or worse. Where’s Isabel? Oh, I see. Well, as long as you’re sure she isn’t lying somewhere along the road desperately in need of medical attention, I think I’ll sit down and take a rest.”
    He mounted a stile giving on to a grassy meadow and contemplated the view about him, while Lion, who had sauntered up to join the party, spread out an ordinance survey map on the top bar of the gate and followed the road they had just travelled with a pin.
    â€œHullo,” he remarked after a moment. “The quarry I went to look at isn’t far away from here. There’s a footpath a little farther down this road leading straight to it across some fields. I wonder whether one can see the face of it from the road.”
    â€œProbably,” assented Dr. Browning absently. He did not share his son’s passion for topography. Botany and architecture were his chief interests outside his profession, though the life of a popular country doctor left little room for them. “What a delightful old cottage that is!” he added, looking down the road to where a small half-timbered building stood back behind a long strip of garden. “And how pleasant to see that it hasn’t been robbed of its old slates. I’ve no patience with the vandals who’ll strip an old cottage of its roof to plaster the slates on to some millionaire’s pseudo-Tudor country residence. All in the name of art, too. . . I wish your young friend would put in an appearance, Nora.”
    Even as he spoke there was a flash of blue in the hedge about ten yards down the road, and Isabel jumped down from a stile and came sauntering placidly towards them, making a charming note of colour in the green landscape with her dress of faded blue cotton and hair of golden red.
    â€œI take it I win,” she greeted them. “I hope you didn’t all think I was dead. I’ve been exploring the fields and hedges. Look what I’ve brought you.”
    She held out a large dock-leaf containing about half a pound of small ripe raspberries.
    â€œWild ones. I found lots of them, and they’re delicious.”
    She offered the leaf to Dr. Browning, who helped himself to two or three and asked:
    â€œWhere did you find these?”
    â€œOh, just in the next field.” She jerked her head vaguely over her shoulder. “Have some, Felix, and say you forgive me for having a better bicycle than you. I didn’t cheat. I swear I didn’t. And I never touched my brake. Did you?”
    â€œOf course not,” murmured Felix, oblivious of the raspberries she held out to him in his contemplation of her small shining head.
    â€œThen you both deserve to be certified insane,” declared Dr. Browning severely. “It’s time we were pushing on if we’re to get home before supper time.”
    There was a general movement towards recumbent bicycles. Lion folded his map and stowed it in his breast pocket, and was about to mount his machine when he stopped suddenly and hailed his father, who had made a few yards start.
    â€œI say! Dad! Hi, everybody! What about the Baronite?”
    â€œThe what?” shouted Dr. Browning, wobbling perilously in the effort to look over his shoulder.
    â€œThe cousin, the Charles, the cow-puncher. . .”
    â€œGreat Scot!” exclaimed Dr. Browning. “I’d forgotten all about him!”
    The five looked at one another and then at the hill they had just descended, hoping to see the missing Charles turning the corner into view. But there was no