It has been a record of vile
plotting all the way through," said the Westerner warmly, "but the toils
are closing in about Mortlake & Co. Of course, my first step was to take
the fellows before an attorney--luckily I knew one in Hampton, and he, as
it happened, was a friend of the Sandy Beach judge. We had to move
quickly, but, thanks to the telegraph wire and fast trains, I got Roy
released from bail and suspicion, and here in time to greet you."
They could only look their gratitude. Just as the strain was becoming
almost too taut, Mr. Bell, who had noticed it, broke the tension.
"Let's sneak out of the back door," he said, "and all go to some quiet
place to dine. Hullo, who's this?" he exclaimed, as the tattered figure of
the man of the island appeared.
"I am what is left of Budd Pierce, Jim Bell," said the man, in his queer,
tired tones.
"Budd Pierce!" exclaimed the mining man, falling back a step. "No--but,
yes, now I look again--it is. But, man, what has happened to you? What are
you doing here?"
"It's a long story," said the ragged man, while the younger members of the
party looked on in astonishment, "but I can tell you that Gene Mortlake
has reached the end of his tether. I've heard all you said about him, and
my interest in him you know already."
"I know that you were swindled out of your fortune by some man years ago,
and then disappeared," said Mr.
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