n of its crew. In answer to Pauline's demand for
explanation Harry only answered:

"Wait."

Finally it came.

A belch of flame shot up from the launch driving a column of smoke far
into the sky, where it spread out and formed a majestic ring, which
floated and curled for many moments. A concussion reached them through
the water and another in the air smote their ears.

The after part of the launch rode on the waters for a moment and then
disappeared. Finally a succession of waves tossed them and passed on.

"What does it mean?" gasped the girl.

"Insanity--sheer, downright insanity. That wretch of a 'pirate' was
a crazy man.

"He placed that bomb, intending to kill all of us. And Owen deserves a
sound thrashing for having anything to do with such a murderous
lunatic."

"I think you're rather hard on Owen, Harry," said Pauline. "Of course,
we all know that pirates aren't nice persons--but nobody could
foresee that the man was crazy."

"Well, perhaps. But don't talk, we have a mile and a half swim to
shore."

They were spared that ordeal by the Silurian liner Caradoc. Arrayed in
borrowed clothes they were notified of a second rescue and came out on
deck in time to behold in the dusk of evening the "pirate." He was
relating to an admiring throng how he had stuck by the burning ship
till it exploded. He had actually been blown into the air and had
fallen by good luck into the little boat.

"It's a lie," said Harry in the old man's cackling voice. The "pirate"
heard the voice of the old man and saw the face and the blond hair of
Harry.

It was too much for his evil and murderous mind to bear. With a shriek
he hurled himself over the rail into the sea. The Caradoc stopped and
searched, but no trace of the "pirate" could be found.

CHAPTER VIII

THE COURTELYOU RECEPTION

Two weeks later Pauline and Harry were sitting in the library. Through
the half-closed blinds a soft breeze bore to them the fragrance of
carnations and roses.

For the first few days after their return Pauline was so thankful they
had not lost their lives that she was reconciled to not having found
the treasure. But only for the first few days. She was already
growing restless.

"You're wasting time, Harry," she said impatiently. "I'd rather face
anything than be bored to death."

"Polly, it's got to stop; it isn't safe, it isn't sensible, it isn't
even fun any more. Won't you drop the whole freakish thing