He had not been following a rabbit with a waistcoat pocket watch when he had fallen down his godforsaken hole. And the climb out was painful. “Turn off that damn light!” Collier slapped at the open air. “What the hell happened?” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“My guess is that you were whacked by the flat end of that shovel,” replied Captain Hall.
“Help me sit up. Please. Slowly. Very slowly.”
A few minutes later, with a glass of brandy that Louise handed him, Collier sat on the wicker loveseat. He discouraged any semblance of conversation. Finally, he glanced up at Captain Hall and asked groggily, “Where’s the sergeant?”
“I don’t know.”
An arrow of pain shot through his head. He cupped it in both hands. “Ooh, this is ugly. We must find him.” He attempted to stand but fell back spilling the remainder of his brandy. “Damn!” It was then he noticed another man was present. “Who’s he?” Eyes still sensitive to the sun, he groped for the table.
“Let me.” Captain Hall to...