st thought to glide by the supposed hermit and escape, but
this would cut him off from securing the booty of which he was in
quest.

He resolved upon a bolder course. He grappled with the newcomer,
confident of easily overcoming a feeble old man, but, to his
disagreeable surprise, he encountered a vigorous resistance far beyond
what he anticipated.

Neither of the two uttered a word, but silently the fierce conflict
continued.

"I must be weak if I cannot handle an old man," thought the professional
burglar, and he increased his efforts.

"If he masters me and finds out who I am, I am lost!" thought John
Trafton; and he, too, put forth his utmost strength.

The fisherman had the disadvantage in one respect. He was wholly unarmed
and his opponent had a knife.

When he found that Trafton--who was of muscular build--was likely to
gain the advantage, with a muttered oath he drew his knife and plunged
it into his opponent's breast.

They were struggling just on the verge of the precipice, and Trafton,
when he felt the blow, tottered and fell, his antagonist with him.

"The old fool's dead, and I must fly," thought the burglar.

With hasty step he fled along the sands till he came to a point where he
could easily scale the cliff. Reaching the top, he walked quickly away
from Cook's Harbor.

Half an hour later the hermit beached his boat, fastened it and
proceeded to his quarters. He was plunged in thought and observed
nothing till he stumbled against the fisherman's body.

"Some drunken fellow probably," he said to himself.

He lit a match, and, bending over, was horror-stricken to see the fixed
features and the blood upon the garments of the unfortunate fisherman.

"There has been murder here! Who can it be?" he exclaimed.

He lit another match and took a closer look.

"As I live, it is Trafton, Robert's uncle!" he cried. "What mystery is
here? How did the unhappy man come to his death?"

He was not long left to wonder alone, for Robert, as was not unusual
with him, had been taking an evening stroll on the beach, and, seeing
his employer, came up to speak to him.

"Good evening, sir," he said, as yet innocent of the sad knowledge which
was soon to be his. "Is anything the matter?"

"Robert," said the hermit solemnly, "prepare yourself for a terrible
surprise. A man has been killed and that man is----"

"My uncle!" exclaimed our hero in dismay.

"Yes, it is he!"

"How did it happen, sir?" asked Robe