be hidden is the one just outside my window, cut off from the sea by the natural rock wall you just saw. The big crags and rocks and crevices are supposed to conceal his ferociousness the sea-monster, growing bigger and hungrier and fiercer every day. The house that Jason—or Hendrickson—bought, neglected, and let return to the owners is the one you’re sitting in, right now.”

CHAPTER V

After Nealman and I had each smoked a cigarette, I thought of a little plan that might increase his guest’s interest in the week’s shoot and hunt. He had been right when he said that even incredible legends, believed by no one, still add flavor to the country manor. I didn’t see why we shouldn’t turn them into account.

“I’ve got an idea,” I told him, “and it all depends whether or not you’ve already sent the invitations to your guests.”

“No, I haven’t—just haven’t got around to it,” he answered. “All I was going to do was to write to about nine or ten of my men friends. I don’t suppose all of them can come.”

“Good. I thought it might be interesting if we worked that legend into the invitation—just to add a little spice to the fishing and hunting. It might serve to waken a little extra interest in your party. Of course—it includes poking fun at the ferocious Jason and his treasure.”

“They’ll have a lot more fun poked at them before we’re done. As I told you—only the colored people take them seriously at all.”

I took out my fountain pen, found a scrap of paper, and drew something like this: