CHAPTER 3DEATH STRIKES IN THE MOUNTAINS
Worrals, who had slept the sound sleep that follows vigorous mental and physical exercise, was awakened by Lucien shaking her gently by the shoulder.
“Six o’clock, mademoiselle. In half an hour it will begin to get light.”
Worrals was wide awake on the instant. “Thanks, Lucien. We’ll be with you in ten minutes. You’ll find a tin of coffee in my bag.” She nudged Frecks. “On your feet, partner.”
In ten minutes they joined Lucien and Raoul in the gloomy candle-lit living-room, and sat down to a frugal breakfast of coffee and rye bread.
“Have you formed a definite plan yet?” Lucien asked Worrals, as he dipped bread into his coffee.
“More or less,” answered Worrals. “I presume you have told Raoul the object of our visit?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Our job the
