3 Inspector Hobbes And The Gold Diggers - Plot & Excerpts
Despite my leg weariness, I was making good time, though the sky had darkened to the colour of the slates on the roofs in Blackcastle. It wasn’t long before punching rain took over from the drizzle and my tweed jacket and trousers, so good at keeping out the wind, proved to have the absorbency claimed by the manufacturers of certain brands of kitchen towel. Before long I was drenched, weighed down, as if in a suit of armour, and with icy trickles running down my legs and back. It was like being under a waterfall, except the rain seemed to be falling parallel to the ground. I could barely see and my feet slipped several times. Twice I was nearly blown over. I needed shelter, and quickly, and could have kicked myself for not heeding the warnings. The Blacker Mountains were, indeed, dangerous. Giving up on any idea of fetching the newspaper, I turned around, heading back to Blacker Knob, hoping I’d be able to find the tent from there. I hadn’t gone far when a white stick slalomed past on the torrent.
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