"he seems to be as interested in us
as we are in him."
Hilderman and his friend were standing on the end of the pier watching
us through their field-glasses.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RED-HAIRED MAN.
"I'll send the glasses at once," said Garnesk, as the train steamed
out of the station. Dennis and I stood on the platform and watched him
out of sight.
"He seems a good fellow," said Dennis.
"Splendid!" I agreed readily. "He's exceeding clever and wide-awake,
and very charming. What we should have done without him heaven only
knows. I fancy his visit saved the entire household from a nervous
collapse."
"We've no time for collapses, nervous or otherwise," Dennis replied.
"We shall want our wits about us, and we shall need all the vitality
we can muster. But at the same time I don't think there is any cause
for nerves. You're not the sort of man, Ron, to let your nerves get
the better of you in an emergency, especially if we can prove that our
enemy is a tangible quantity, and not a conglomeration of waves and
vibrations."
"Hilderman and his friend appear to be waiting for us," I interrupted.
"You may as well introduce me," said Dennis. "I'd like to meet the
man. Who is his friend, do you know?"
"Haven't the remotest idea," I replied. "I have seen him once before,
but that is all. I don't know who he is."
"Is he staying with Hilderman, or does he live in the neighbourhood?"
"That I couldn't tell you either," I said. "I'm sure he doesn't live
anywhere near Invermalluch."
As we strolled out of the station Hilderman and his companion were
standing chatting by the gate which leads on to the pier. As we
approached, Hilderman turned to me with a smile.
"Ah, Mr. Ewart," he exclaimed, "your friend has left you, then. I hope
you won't let his inability to help Miss McLeod depress you unduly.
While there's life there's hope."
"I shall not give up hope yet awhile, anyway," I answered heartily.
"May I introduce my friend Mr. Fuller?" he asked presently, and I
found myself shaking hands with the round-faced little man, who
blinked at me pleasantly through his glasses. I returned the
compliment by introducing Dennis.
"On holiday, Mr. Burnham?" asked the American. Dennis was so prompt
with his reply that I was convinced he had been thinking it out in the
meanwhile.
"Well, I hardly know that I should call it a holiday," he replied
immediately. "I have just run up to say good-bye to Ewart before
of
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