as the kitchen and
living room combined.

"Anybody here?" cried Tom, as he stepped inside.

Only a dull echo answered.

The two could now see where a door gave entrance to an inner room, and
this, a quick glance showed, was the sleeping apartment, two bunks
being built on the side walls.

"Well, somebody had it pretty comfortable here," decided Tom, as he
looked around. "They've been cooking and sleeping here, and not so very
long ago, either. It wouldn't be such a bad place if it was cleaned
out."

"That's right," agreed Jackson. "Wouldn't mind camping here myself, if
there was any fishing near."

"The river can't be far away," suggested Tom. "And now let's see what
we can find, and see if we can get a line on who has been here. But
first we'll let in a little light."

He opened a window in the sleeping room, and pushed back the heavy
plank shutter that had been closed. When the light entered it was seen
that both bunks bore evidence of having been lately slept in. The
blankets were tossed back, as if the occupants had risen, and in the
outer room, on the stove, were signs that indicated a meal had been
served not many days gone by.

"Now," observed Tom musingly, as he wandered about the place, "if we
could only find out who owns this, and who has been here lately--"

Jackson stooped over, and, thrusting aside an end of the blankets that
trailed on the floor from one of the bunks, picked up something.

"What is it?" asked Tom.

"Looks like a leather pocketbook," was the answer. "That's what it is,"
the mechanic went on, as he held the object to the light. "It's a
wallet."

"Let me see it!" exclaimed Tom quickly. He took the wallet from the
hands of Jackson. Then the young inventor uttered a cry. "A clew at
last!" he exclaimed. "A clew at last! Mr. Nestor has been in this
cabin!"

"How do you know?" asked Jackson quickly.

"This is his wallet," said Tom excitedly. "I've often seen him have it.
In fact he had it with him on Earthquake Island, the time I sent the
wireless message for help. I saw it several times then. He kept in it
what few papers he had saved from the wreck. And I've seen it often
enough since. That's Mr. Nestor's wallet all right. Besides, if you
want any other evidence--look!" He opened the leather flaps and showed
Jackson on one, stamped in gold letters, the name of Mary's father.

"Well, what do you make of it, Tom?" asked the mechanician, as he
finished his examination of the