l that we should both have landed on the same
island."

"It wasn't from choice," grumbled Fanning in a perfectly audible tone.

Jimsy flushed a dark, dangerous flush.

"Jess, tell me not to punch that chap," he muttered to his sister.

"I certainly do tell you not to," whispered Jess emphatically.

The man of the island looked on wonderingly.

"Did you come in an aeroplane, too?" he asked Fanning in the manner of a
man prepared to hear any marvels.

"Yes. We had the race won, too. But this fog has delayed us. What can you
give us to eat. I can pay for it," said Fanning in a loud, rude tone.

"I don't take pay," said the hut-dweller in a quiet tone that ought to
have caused Fanning to redden with shame, "but if you are hungry I can
cook some more fish. There are plenty of potatoes left."

"They'll be very nice, I'm sure," Regina had the grace to say. But Fanning
mumbled something about "pauper's food."

But nevertheless he ate as heartily as Jimsy himself, when the food was
put on the rough table. It was hard work trying to be pleasant to the two
young people who had so unexpectedly come into their midst, and the
conversation languished and went on by fits and starts.

"Hullo, the fog's lifting," cried Fanning suddenly; "I'm off. Come on
Regina."

The girl rose, and as she did so the trio from the Prescott machine
noticed the island dweller's eyes fixed on her in a curious way.

"Pardon me," he said, "but is your name Regina?"

The girl looked at him in a half-startled way, while Peggy, as she said
afterward, felt as if she was watching a drama.

"Yes," she said; "why?"

"Because," said the island dweller slowly, "because I once knew someone
called Regina who was very dear to me."

"Come on," called Fanning from outside, "we've got to win this race back."

The girl lingered hesitatingly an instant and the next moment was gone.

"The fog is lifting," said Peggy, "we must be going, too. Come along Jess.
Come on, Jimsy, we don't want to let the Mortlake craft beat us at the
eleventh hour."

"What name was that you just mentioned?" asked the man of the island,
quickly. He was bending forward eagerly, as if to catch the answer.

"Do you mean Mortlake?"

"Yes, that's the name. What of him? Do you know him?"

The man's eyes gleamed brightly. He seemed to be much excited. Peggy
answered him calmly, although she felt as if some sort of a life tragedy
was working out to swift conclusion.

"Of course, M