Bell. "But I had forgotten the name of the
rascal."
"It was Eugene Mortlake," said the man of the island slowly. "After I knew
I was ruined, I fled down here, where I was raised, and became a recluse
on that island. It was cowardly of me, I know, but from now on I am going
to lead a different life."
"You have found yourself!" cried James Bell, gleefully clasping the
other's thin, worn hand.
"I have found something dearer to me," was the quiet reply; "but come, let
us be going. I have much that is strange to tell you."
With wondering looks, the young aviators--Roy leaning on Peggy's devoted
arm--followed James Bell and the man from Lost Brig Island out of the
aeroplane shed.
* * * * *
In his suite of rooms at the Hotel Hampton, the best hotel in the place,
Eugene Mortlake sat opposite old Mr. Harding. His brow was furrowed, and
little wrinkles that had not been there earlier in the day, appeared at
the corners of his eyes. Old Mr. Harding seemed to be trying to cheer him
up. In another corner of the room, sullen and depressed, Fanning Harding
was standing puffing a cigarette and filling the atmosphere with its
reeking fumes.
"All is not lost yet, Mortlake, hey, hey, hey?" said the old man, laying a
skinny, claw-like hand on the other's arm. "Why, to-night we'll put into
execution a plan that will permanently put these young Prescotts out of
it.
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