Haxton and the Baron, from what Captain
Stump tells me, are now far on their way to the right place, if they
have not already reached it."
"Wot did I say, Miss Irene?" broke in Stump fiercely. "Oh, he's deep is
that there Baron. I sized him up when he med off yesterday. An' Mrs.
Haxton, too! A nice pair of beauties."
"Whatever wrong Mrs. Haxton may have done in the past, I refuse to
believe that she was swayed by some merely selfish consideration in
leaving us as she did," said Irene softly, and her grandfather thanked
her with a look as he quitted the tent.
Stump shook his head.
"She's as artful as a pet fox," he growled; but he had no listeners.
Dick and Irene were far too much occupied in gazing at each other.
Mr. Fenshawe returned speedily. He spread out ten photographs on the
table in front of Royson. With them was a typewritten document divided
into ten sections.
"That is the English translation," he explained. "Each numbered
division corresponds with a similar number on a photograph.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406