hip they have shown, but say again that I am as innocent of this
crime as a baby."

Mr. Cooke paid no attention to this speech. His face became radiant.

"Didn't any of you fellows strike a cave, or a hollow tree, or something
of that sort, knocking around this morning?"

One man slapped his knee.

"The very place," he cried. "I fell into it," and he showed a rent in
his trousers corroboratively. "It's big enough to hold twenty of Allen,
and the detective doesn't live that could find it."

"Hustle him off, quick," said Mr. Cooke.

The mandate was obeyed as literally as though Robin Hood himself had
given it. The Celebrity disappeared into the forest, carried rather than
urged towards his destined place of confinement.

The commotion had brought Mr. Trevor to the spot. He caught sight of the
Celebrity's back between the trees, then he looked at the cat-boat
entering the cove, a man in the stern preparing to pull in the tender.

He intercepted Mr. Cooke on his way to the beach.

"What have you done with Mr. Allen?" he asked, in a menacing voice.

"Good God," said Mr. Cooke, whose contempt for Mr. Trevor was now
infinite, "you talk as if I were the governor of the state. What the
devil could I do with him?"

"I will have no evasion," replied Mr. Trevor, taking an imposing posture
in front of him. "You are trying to defeat the ends of justice by
assisting a dangerous criminal to escape. I have warned you, sir, and
warn you again of the consequences of your meditated crime, and I give
you my word I will do all in my power to frustrate it."

Mr. Cooke dug his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. Here was a
complication he had not looked for. The Scimitar lay at anchor with her
sail down, and two men were coming ashore in the tender. Mr. Cooke's
attitude being that of a man who reconsiders a rash resolve, Mr. Trevor
was emboldened to say in a moderated tone:

"You were carried away by your generosity, Mr. Cooke. I was sure when
you took time to think you would see it in another light."

Mr. Cooke started off for the place where the boat had grounded. I did
not catch his reply, and probably should not have written it here if I
had. The senator looked as if he had been sand-bagged.

The two men jumped out of the boat and hauled it up. Mr. Cooke waved an
easy salute to one, whom I recognized as the big boatman from Asquith,
familiarly known as Captain Jay. He owned the Scimitar and several
smaller boats. The captai