tation, too. Makes me almost ashamed of
the relationship."

"How are we going to get to Wreck Island from Pennymint Point?"

"Same boat," said Iff confidently. "Spelvin heard Ismay tell his
engineer to wait for him--would be back between midnight and three."

"He can't beat us there, can he, by any chance?"

"He can if he humps himself. This is a pretty good car, and Spelvin says
there isn't going to be any car on the road tonight that'll pass us;
but I can't forget that dear old New York, New Haven & Hartford. They
run some fast trains by night, and while of course none of them stops at
Pennymint Centre--station for the Point--still, a man with plenty of
money to fling around can get a whole lot of courtesy out of a
railroad."

"Then the question is: can he catch a train which passes through
Pennymint Centre before we can reasonably expect to get there?"

"That's the intelligent query. I don't know. Do you?"

"No--"

"Spelvin doesn't, and we haven't got any time to waste trying to find
out. Probabilities are, there is. The only thing to do is to run for it
and trust to luck. Spelvin says it took him an hour and thirty-five
minutes to run in, this evening; and he's going to better that if
nothing happens. Did you remember to bring a gun?"

"Two." Staff produced the pistol he had taken from Ismay, with the extra
clips, and gave them to the little man with an account of how he had
become possessed of them--a narrative which Iff seemed to enjoy
immensely.

"Oh, we can't lose," he chuckled; "not when Cousin Artie plays his hand
as poorly as he has this deal. I've got a perfectly sound hunch that
we'll win."

Staff hardly shared his confidence; still, as far as he could judge, the
odds were even. Ismay might beat them to Pennymint Centre by train, and
might not. If he did, however, it could not be by more than a slight
margin; to balance which fact, Staff had to remind himself that two
minutes' margin was all that would be required to get the boat away from
land, beyond their reach.

"Look here," he put it to Iff: "suppose he does beat us to that boat?"

"Then we'll have to find another."

"There'll be another handy, all ready for us, I presume?"

"Spare me your sarcasm," pleaded Iff; "it is, if you don't mind my
mentioning the fact, not your forte. Silence, on the other hand, suits
your style cunningly. So shut up and lemme think."

He relapsed into profound meditations, while the car hummed onwards
thr