Jack Haydons Quest | Page 2

crafty and a trifle menacing; his hair was
lank and intensely black. In build he was very slight, with thin arms
and legs. Jack's idea was that if he had been a little darker he might
very well have been a Hindoo.
"And what, my friend, may you want with me?" said Jack genially.
"This morning you received a letter from your father," said the dusky
stranger.
"How under the sun do you know that?" asked Jack; "and what if I did?
I don't see where your interest comes in."

"I wish to see that letter. You had better hand it over at once."
"Don't you ever apply for a further stock of cheek, my little man," said
Jack, "for you've got all you need, and a little bit over."
"The letter is almost certainly in your pocket," said the stranger in
perfect English, yet pronounced with a curiously odd lisp and click,
"and I must see it."
"It's in my pocket all right, confound your cheek," replied Jack, "and
there it will stay. Come, get a move on you, and clear out of my way."
"I shall not get out of your way," said the other. "I shall stop you until I
have read the letter."
"I don't know what lunatic asylum is short of your cheerful presence
to-day," remarked Jack, "and if you don't clear out quick I shall
certainly rush you. In which case, I beg you to observe that I am, even
if I say it myself, a pretty stiff tackler, and about three stone heavier
than you."
The man laughed mockingly and waved his hand, as if making very
light of Jack's purpose.
"I assure you," he said in a soft voice, and giving once more his laugh
of light mockery, "that it would be much better for you to hand over the
letter at once. I do not wish to hurt you, but I have not the least
objection to do so if it becomes necessary."
Jack's warm blood was fired at once, and he pulled himself together for
a swift charge which would fill this stranger with surprised regret for
what he had brought upon himself. But, for a second, something
checked him; a strange, mysterious feeling came over him as he
wondered what lay behind all this. He stood, though he knew it not, at a
great parting of the ways. Behind him lay his happy days of triumph on
the football meadow and the cricket field. How was he to know that
this dark, slight figure before him meant that a strange, new life was
opening out to him, a life of wild adventures in far-off lands, in lands

where the memory of English meadows would seem like thoughts and
dreams of another life. Jack Haydon knew nothing of this; yet he
paused for a moment as some strange prevision seized upon him and
held him in its grip. Then he brushed away this odd influence, and was
back at once in the present.
"For the last time, clear out," said Jack. The man laughed, and Jack
made a swift leap at him. They were not three yards apart, but Jack
never reached his man. Without a sign, without a sound, someone
sprang upon him from behind, flung a cord over his head, and seized
him in a strangling grip. Jack was as strong as a young bull, but in this
awful, noiseless clutch he was helpless. He fought madly to throw off
his unseen assailant, but he fought in vain. He felt a noose close upon
his throat, and his eyeballs began to start out and his head to swim. In
front of him stood the mysterious stranger, who had moved neither
hand nor foot, and Jack's last conscious recollection was of the quiet,
smiling face, and the mocking laugh once more rang in his ears.
Suddenly the frightful, strangling clutch seemed to tighten, the blood
drummed madly in his ears as if every vein was bursting; then he knew
no more.
When Jack Haydon came to himself, he found that he was in the same
spot, and that someone was chafing his hands and pouring water on his
face. He gave a deep sigh, and a well-known voice said: "Thank God,
Haydon's coming round. Whatever could have been the matter with the
poor lad? What does this mark round his throat mean?"
Jack opened his eyes and saw Dr. Lawrence, the headmaster of
Rushmere School, bending over him. Near at hand stood Colonel
Keppel, a gentleman residing in the neighbourhood. The Colonel had
been driving Dr. Lawrence back from Longhampton, and his trap stood
close by. At the present moment the Colonel held a hat from which
water was dripping. He had fetched it from a pool near at hand.
Jack