LUCILLE LOVE. The Girl of Mgslery A Soul Jhrilling Story of£ove. DBanger and Jntriaue •By the ■■MA.STEK PEJV" Copyright, 1914. All moving picture rights reserved by the Universal Film Manufacturing Company, who art now exhibiting this production in leading tneaters. Infringements will be vigorously prosecuted. SYNOPSIS OF THE FOREGOING CHAPTERS. While students together at West Point. and in '.ore with the same girl, Sumpter Love proves Hufro Loubeque a thief, and Loubeque is dishon orably discharged. Love wins the grtrL The en mltv thus begun finds outlet in later years at Manila, when a butlar thief In the employ of Loubeque, now an International spy. steals valu able papers from the Government safe of General Lcve. Loubeque sails w'th them on the stean\- shtp Empress and General Love accuses Lieut. Gibson, his aide and the sweetheart of his daugh ter Lucille. of the crime. Loubeque sends a wireless message cleverly Insinuating* that Gen eral Love had sold the papers to a foreign power. To save the honor of the man she loved and to •rase the stigma from her father's name. Lucille prevails upon Harlev. a Government aviator, to take her out to the ship, in his aeroplane. To foil Lucille. Loubeque destroys the wfreless apparatus on the Empress and is hurt in the resulting explosion. In her search for the papers. Lucille becomes his nurse, and when the ship takes nre. secures them. Th© vessel is burned! to the water's edge And Lucille drifts to a strange Island on the oar of a crushed lifeboat. Lucille is rescued by friendly savages. She is given an amulet for curing the Chiefs daughter, and it proved potent •gainst the machination of Hugo Loubeque. who likewise cast on the 'stand, plans to get the papers. He burns Lucille's hut, but she escapes with the precious papers. He sends a decoy message ask ing her to come to the h-.me of a neighboring chief, whose wife is ill vid in need of nursing. On the way there she falls into a covered pit. dug by Loubeque across her path. Her guide, an old crone, takes the papers from Lucille, and gives them to Loubeque, who goes with them to the Jungle. His guile and servant steals them, but is killed by a lion, and Lucille, who had trailed them three days, recovers them from the body. Lucille meets a strange cave dwelling peo ple. is attacked by monkeys, escapes In a canoe, and is carried Into an underground whirlpool. She is rescued by Captain Wetherell and taken aboard his yacht. There »h« meets Loubeque, who ie also picked up by the yacht, which is carrying contraband arn s to Chinese rebels. When warships pursue, Wetherell puts Lucille and Lou beque to sea in an open boat, because they know too much of his plans. CHAPTER XXTT. In an Open Boat. fHE great copper ball of sun squatted comfortably upon the horizon s rim, flattening into itself and surveying with tolerant contempt the tiny, bobbing craft in which were Hugo Loubeque and Lucille. The tiny yacht was showing its heels in grand shape to the battleship, and the guns from the great boat were roaring in real earnest, now, as it was evident that the filibuster had DO intention of obeying the signal to haul in. The pair who had fought one another so cor dially stared at the scene until both boats melted into the sun, below the sun, then dropped be yond the horizon. The ocean which seemed so restful from the deck now became the creature of a thousand giant heads, waves that lifted them high then slapped their cockle-shell craft back into the trough behind. And. in ever-recurring succession the orderly army of the sea marched upon them, toyed derisively a second with them, then passed by, leaving them to the next rank. The air was growing colder, colder, spray slash ing them and searching their clothes, with file liV® tips. « Hugo Loubeque was watching Lucille narrow ly. Their predicament seemed not to worry him, tie fact that the Captain of the filibusters had consigned himself and his enemy to such a fate was of little account. Life, to him. had been a succession of dangers equally appalling. And he was still alive. But the motive of his life, the thought of revenge with which he made a weak body so many times compel itself beyond the limit of endurance was still all-dominating. Warily he studied her downcast face, the melancholy expres sion given to it by the sweep of lashes fringing her eyes'. She started, awake from her reverie, her thoughts—which had been speeding home ward ——brought back to the boat instantly, her own motive of Love which must compel her to fight- on springing powerfully within her. "The papers, Miss Lucille." Loubeque said quietly, "will you kindly give me the papers to take care of?" The papers! Then the spy did not know that Captain Wetherell had possessed himself of the precious bag before having her placed in the open boat! Instinctively her hands flew to her bosom, the harsh feel of the ruby necklace which she had taken from the underground cavern with her. meeting her clutch. Rubies of untold, of fabul ous value she had and the thought of power, of money should she ever come safely out of this gave her a sweeping sensation of elation. Surely, the rubies had been left to her for some object. Fate, that had been so manifested and had always eventually proved so kindly, would not gribe at her now by giving her that which would mean great power among human beings only to allow her to drown without the oppor tunity of using it. "Captain Wetherell took the papers," she an swered quietly, studying the spy's face to see what effect the announcement made. Again un willing admiration for the man's imperturbability, his acceptance of circumstances came to her as she met nis level, unwinking scrutiny. Slowly he nodded. "Indeed," he murmured, then, after a long peiiod spent in profound thought, "well, perhaps it is better so. Perhaps it is better." For a full hour he did not speak, an hour wherein the stars sprayed themselves over the heavens, as though the great Celestial gardener drew a protecting blanket from off his precious flowers and exposed them to the Nature from which they drew their sustenance. Lucille fancied ■he caught a glimpse of the long-wicked friendly s-tar that beckoned to her when she hid from the leopards in the tree-top. and the thought re assured her. Hugo was speaking, softly, as though to himself. "Yes, child, perhaps it is better so. It is so much simpler to fight against a Wetherell than against you." There was a note of pathos - , of longing, in his tones that made her lips tremble in sympathy for the man who had so splendidly misjudged the life that had been given him, had so misused the marvelous brain. Again came that feminine in stinct to proselyte and again did a glance at his determined face make her desist. She would fight and fight and die fighting to prevent him accomp lishing his aim, but, to save her, she could feel no hatred against this one who would wreck those riie held most dear. "You still have hope?" she murmured, anx ious to hear him answer in the affirmative. - "Hope!" he laughed aloud. "Child, it is writ ten In the stars that I shall not fail, cannot fail. You have read my diary— No," he lifted his hand in protest as she would have inter rupted, "I do not blame you. I admire you the more for doing anything to work out your mis sion. YOB know from that diary what I have done to accomplish my ends. I have overthrown nations, have thousands at my feet. And all for what? That when I struck at the man I hated there should be no chance for failure. And now the last chance has been overthrown. I faltered, Lucille. I faltered when I should have put you out of my path forever; when I should have made an end to your interference. And I had HARRESBURG TELEGRAPH reached the pass when I chose between your life and the papers, and your life was to pay. And """ ~ now that choice has been spared me and the face of the woman I loved shall never look into my eyes with that reproach in her own. No. Destiny has intervened, Lucille. 1 know it, feel it —in my heart. She watched him. fascinated, as he coolly rose and examined the provisions apportioned them, counting each biscuit, testing the water keg. For just a second she fancied a shadow crossed his face, then he turned and smiled re assuringly at her. By stinting there is enough for three days," he said quietly. "I think it would be better to wait till morning." He drew his coat off and passed it to her, frowning down her remon strances at the deprivation. The warmth of it made her realize for the first time that she had been chilled through by the cold night air and she flashed him a look of gratitude, watehiug him as he bent over a slip of paper and compass, mak ing strange marks now and then upon the paper after a long scrutiny of the stars. Never moving nis splendid body, absolutely absorbed in making his crude reckonings', Hugo Loubeque worked, while the eyes of Lucille closed drowsily, open ing and shutting as though she would light awav the slumber that would come, and Anally clos ing softly in profound sleep. . She woke to a sensation of pain in her head, as though some giant weight rested there, press ing down as though to crunch the forehead. For a moment she did not realize where she was. stared about her perplexedly, tried to identify the gentle, undulating motion of the boat, the" soft sweeping sound of the waters. Then her eyes met tne melancholy ones of Hugo Loubeque, fastened upon her as though he had not stirred from the position she had marked him in when she went to sleep. There was something in their depths which alarmed her now, something of forebod ing which made her rise hastily. The spy smiled. The sun was beating down upon them fer ociously, as though it would consume those hardy intruders. Heat rays danced blindingly in everv direction, mirroring the waves tantaliz'inglv. Her head ached, when she would have spoken, she found her tongue swollen, her voice thick, her lips parched. ater please," she stammered, then glared in horror at the international spv's down cast face. She half rose, then sank back to her elbow again. Loubeque moved carefully to her side, placing his hand upon her arm. "There is no water," he said gentlv. "In their hurry they put an empty keg in the' boat." "No wat— —-er " She repeated the words slowly, as does a child interpreting a les son, meaningless to him. "No water!" "There there," he murmured soothingly. "It is the test of Fate, my dear. Try not to think of it—try " He did not finish for the pity within him at her brave struggle not to show her fear, her pain. Her lips trembled as 6he tried bravely to smile, then, with a determined effort, she sat upright. When she would have spoken he shook his head negatively and she knew he wished to conserve even the strength that words would expend. Her head afhed maddeningly and the sun seemed to fairly sizzle down upon her. Times, when she al lowed their dreadful predicament to burst upon her fully she would shake as one with the acue. "Last night, when I discovered the keg was empty," Loubeque said reassuringly, "I started working out our reckoning. We are well within the fishing zone of the coast. There is always a chance of being picked up. Don't fear, Lucille." She smiled bravely, the effort only making her realize that the heat was paralyzing her facial muscles. After that, she sat quite still, enduring in silence the maddening heat, the worse thirst. Times, she thought she would be unable to stand it longer, that she must reach into this end less expanse of ocean and drink—drink; that she must plunge over the boat's side and allow the salt water to be absorbed by her body. From watching the heat waves and enduring" the sun her head was spinning like a top. mirages of daz zling beauty were dancing before her only to"re cede and intensify her agony by their illusion. Sanity toppled, reeled, but always' would she fight it back, inspired by the silent figure of her enemy. Night and the stars, but night and stars from which all kindliness had fled. Night that should have veiled the endless reach of water that com- them about, that coldly stared upon the pair and brutally revealed their'dire catastro phe. Lucille felt something suddenly snap with in her throbbing forehead, a little accident that seemed to instantly stop the agony and suffuse her with a delicious coolness that changed slowly to more intense heat than even the sun had brought. She knew it would be impossible to endure the strain longer. Her brain seemed whirling in another direction, like a clock whose springs had suddenly gone mad. She could feel a strange desire to laugh aloud as she looked over the boat's side and dabbled her fingers into the cooling water. Loubeque's silent figure was motionless. In one long, gliding motion she half rose then dropped swiftly from the boat, the wa ter encircling her, cooling her, lapping at her ears in soothing refrain that lulled her senses to a glorious sleep, visionless, profound. A sleep in which there were no voices save a shrill male voice that banged at her ear drums; in which there was no force save the tender grip of the ocean and a minute, alien tightening upon her arm ; such a sleep as she had never dreamed of having; a sleep from which all incentive for wakefulness had departed and into which only the Eanic-stricken, agonized face of her enemy, Hugo oubeque, intruded. She fought to open her eves as the spy pinched her arm, tried to shake her head reprovingly at him. And then she succeeded and in a flash of sanity shuddered at the horri fied face of the man who was dragging her back into the boat, a face wherein the features were distorted, the teeth bared from the strain of her weight upon his shoulders. Darkness, blank, im penetrable—s Inmb er, goblin-haunted—sun and desert with mirages of water that receded before her lips CHAPTER XXTI2. The Mystery of a Voice. is a meaningless word when divided into its decimals. It may have been seconds, min utes, months or years, the time that Lucille sub divided in her delirium by two measures— nightmare-haunted fever and blank, icy chill. Dimly, through it all, ran one element, one face, one touch of humanity that would not fade, that always seemed so different from the phantasies fostering within her stricken brain, racking her body. Hugo Loube*iue was constantly ministering unto her slightest want, soothing her with tender words, a veritable Goliath in fighting back the hordes of imps that would have tormented her. Times his voice would grow thicker, weaker; times there were when his legs would crumple tip from under him, the hands that smoothed her burning forehead would tremble and the eyes that glowed in the emaciated face appeared more sunken than usual, but always was he by her side—always until the mantel" of blaeknesi* com- J pletely reached out and swathed her, soothing her to untroubled slumber, a slumber disturbed but once and that, when Loubeque stood before her, looking down at her with a light of mingled happiness and triumph in his eyes; a look that brought dimly back to her the memory of certain things yet to be accomplished, but which she had not the strength to completely recall; a look so transitory that when she fought her eyes wide open, he was pone and she was conscious of be ing in a strange place, a black figure rising from the corner, then slumber once again. Instinct forced her finally from the lethargic slumber, the instinct common to all higher forms of animals of protecting one's treasure. Her hands) groped at her neck where a slight tug had wak ened her. Something brushed across her hand when she forced her eyes open, the figure she re membered to have seen in the corner was still squatting there, a figure that might hav« been in animate save for the burning eyes fastened upon her. Nervously she fumbled at her neck, the feel of the ruby necklace meeting her fingers and puzzling her for a moment, before it started a chaotic chain of recollections - that finally mar shalled themselves in semblance of order. , Out of the delirium of fever she fought re membrance of all that had happened since Hugo Loubeque dragged her back in the boat, recalled vividly from the subconscious brain that had at tained ascendancy during that harrowing period, his tender nursing of her, his denial, his stern self-mastery when the blazing sun, the thirst, the hopelessness would otherwise have compelled him to give up the fight. And then the fishing boat, the blessed relief of water, the breaking of the fever and consequent repairing of burned out nerve tissues, the arrival in this house and the spy's leave taking. A cat and mouse game she played for two days with the silent Chinese woman nursing her, two days wherein she could feel the thrill of quickened blood strengthening her. The woman had discovered the necklace and Lucille knew she was constantly after it. Short periods of time there were when the nurse would sleep lustily and then Lucille walked warily up and down the floor, gradually regaining perfect power of locomotion. She was able to sleep with one eye open, as the saying has it. That neck lace meant everything to her in this strange country. It meant the ability to travel, to do anything she pleased in her fight to regain the precious papers that meant honor and liberty to her falsely accused sweetheart. And with the return of strength came a ter rible uneasiness, a great fear. Hugo Loubeque, tender though his care of her had been, had left immediately she was out of danger and she knew his motive was to seek the papers that Captain Wetherell had stolen. It was dawn of the third day that the nurse slipped from the room, slipped out with a stealthiness that somehow sent a chill through the girl and made her straighten bolt upright in bed. then, as the door closed, spring toward the chair beside the door. Eor a full minute she listened, her every sense concentrating and lend ing itself to her hearing. And then the soft pat ter of slippered feet upon the floor without made her stiffen with resolution, as she hid herself so that the opened door would secure her from sight. She waited, her heart thumping so vio lently she feared it might be overheard by the whispering pair in the hallway. Then the* door opened, an inch at a time, silently, cautiously, while the woman slipped inside the room, looked at the blanket upon the couch where Lucille should have been, then beckoned to a slender, yellow-robed young Chinaman, who entered even more noiselessly than the nurse had done. The girl in hiding shuddered at sight of the vicious knife the young Chinaman passed the woman, shuddered for the fate that would have been hers save for the premonition of impending dis aster that had been hers so short a time before. The man muttered a guttural deep in his throat as he crouched, his long, yellow fingers closing and unclosing the while he crouched, watching the woman. Evidently the revolver he carried bothered him for he placed it upon the chair. Luci lie's fingers darted out, closing upon the welcome butt just as the woman leaped across the distance that separated her from the couch, upon which the blanket bulged deceptively, driv ing the ugly knife down w'ith a force that sent her off her balance. The man leaped forward with a shrill cry that immediately mingled with the enraged jargon of the nurse as she found she had been fooled. Lucille knew she could hide no longer and stepped from behind the door, the revolver levelled upon the pair, her voice shaking despite herself. The man cringed, crouched away from her but the slight of the girl there seemed to enrage the woman completely. Brandishing the knife wildly she leaped forward, then halted, stone •till, a ridiculous expression of pained surprise on her face as she lurched from side to side * simultaneously with the discharge of the gun, then slipped to the floor in a ridiculous heap The man crouched still further away and Lucille advanced upon him. Somehow, she felt no compunction now, felt no fear, only felt the necessity for immediate haste in getting away. She signalled to the fel low that he should get out of his robes instantly. Sounds of activity came from everr direction. SUe was shaJiing like a runaway horse with the strain. The young fellow- was equally nervous but. the revolver at his chest, made him hasten. Lucille forced him under the blnnket, hissing a warning in his ear which he evidently under stood, as it wns emphasized by a meaning prod that wis more eloquent than any other language the point- of a businesslike gun. Voices were in the hall now. Lucille dragged the body of the woman under the couch and squatted in the woman's place just as tjio d»or opened and a head was poked inside. She mumbled something inarticulate, guttural, peevish-voiced, nnd the head was withdrawn after the owner cast one glance at the figure under the blankets. He had no sooner closed the door than the girl picked the knife from the floor and ripped the blanket into strips, securely tying her prisoner and gag ging him. She barely finished before a low moan from the. wounded woman made her hurriedly drag her victim from under the couch. A great wave of compassion swept her at sight of her work, necessary though it had been, compassion which died before the malevolent glare in the eyes fastened upon her own. Examining the wound she discovered it to be but superficial and bound and gagged her then bundled her back. Then, after waiting a second at the door mustering her courage, she stepped into the hall way and down, into the open air. Strangely enough she felt the reaction coming upou her once outdoors, a nervous chill that shook her from head to foot and seemed unwilling to loosen its grip. It was the sight of the ocean that drove it from her, the ocean she recalled as so much more terrible and remorseless than anything she had ever even dreamed of. It braced her against the nervous chill that threatened to send her back into the place from which she had just escaped. She shrugged her shoulders and marched stead ily down the foul-smelling, dirty little street un til she glimpsed a building taller than any others surrounding it and decorated with a gorgeousncss of elaboration which made her for get everything save admiration for the skill and patience expended in such work. Closer inspec tion showed that the bottom part of the house had barred windows and she shuddered at thought of the narrow escape she had had from being placed behind just such bars herself. Bet fore the door stood a closed palanquin, evidently the vehicle for a personage of great consequence from the rich silk robes that overflowed the sides. Lucille laughed at the involuntary surge of longing to hide herself within that mass of robes, but the laugh died away in her throat, was choked fairly at birth by the hoarse whisper of her own name. She looked about her, fearful , that her illness had not deserted her completely, that she must be delirious. "Lucille!" This time she knew she had made no mis take. She even identified the direction from which the voice came. But surely nobody save Hugo Loubeque knew her in this place, and Hugo Loubeque— Something small and compact fell at her feet and she stared at it wonderingly, incredu lously, recognizing it for the diary of Hugo Lou beque, the international spy. The sound of a clos ing door made her hurriedly snatch it from the ground and conceal it beside the ruby necklace. Then she shrank back againsrt the side of the house, eyeing the portly, sallow-faced Chinaman who came slowly and majestically toward her. Evidently the owner of the palanquin, a per sonage of great circumstance from his dwelling and personal attire, she judged. Her fingers pressed against the diary and encountered the rifbies. The touch of them gave her a swift idea and she cautiously drew the necklace from about her neck, detaching one from the strand and knotting the stout hair wire so none should es cape because of the loosening. She looked at the pigeon-blood a moment, recalling her father's contemptuous sentence regarding the corrupti bility of the Chinese noble, then advanced to ward the man, just as he reached out to enter his vehicle. His face was impassive as he stared blankly at her. She gesticulated, did everything to make him understand what she desired but by no sign did he signify that he understood. Finally in desperation she held out the ruby to him, eager ly watching the change of expression that crossed his face as he turned it over and over in his fingers. His eyes were fairly glowing when he lifted them once more and met hers, nodding as she moved toward the palanquin and stepped inside, secreting herself under the silk robes and burrowing to one corner while the owner entered. Her thoughts ran riot during that trip. Where had the diary of the spy come from? Surely not Loubeque, yet no one but Loubeque was familiar with her name. It had been a prisoner. A prisoner— Wetherell or someone of his crew. They had possession of the diary and the precious papers. But why confined? What could it all mean? She racked her brain for an answer, was so absorbed in the puszle that she did not notice the palan quin had halted, did not notice until she heard a familiar voice chatting with the owner in Chinese. But she would have recognized that voice in aay quarter of the glohe, would have f— known It anywhere, for it was the voice of Hnm international spy and her •nemr. ths man who would ruin, everyone connected with tier. And, as she crouched away from the sound of it, she noticed that his tones were light, lwppy; that, he appeared satisfied with and with life. Finally she looked out to find her •elf upon a quay, a great, boat docking there, its hold being filled by coolie stevedores. And 1 , strip ping up the gang plank, a broad smile upon hJb face, moved Hugo loubeque. Lucille thrilled, if Hugo Loubeque smlletV he was happy. If the spy was happy, it was be cause he had secured the papers once more. If he stej»ped upon this giant boat it was because the paj>erß were in his possession. If they were in his possession, then she would follow. But. tiie diary? Her fingers told heT tlhat this was no phai*- tasy, no figment of an overwrought brain. She held tho diary and Hugo Loubeque was boarding the boat. If he boarded the boat It was because he was not yert aware of his lose. Whichever U was - g he must, follow him, for Hugo Loubeque could not bo fooled for long. He was the man for her to watch, for, watching him, she knew she would see the papers either in, or coming into, his possession. She watched the stevedores shouldering their bundles into the black, yawning hold. Then she edged closer. She must be aboard the boat when it sailed. Her pretty teeth closed upon her un der lip. Closer and closer to the laborers, she moved, cautious, furtive. CHAPTER XXIV. Wherein o Doomed Man Smile*. THROUGH the torturesome days in the open boat, through the agonizing nights, Hugo Loubeque had tenderly ministered to the girl. Through the days when lie watched her hovering about the black borderland of Death in the house to which he had been recommended by his subordinate, the Governor of the province to which the fishing smack that rescued them bore them, his brain had fed upon one thought, nourishing his body to constantly renewed life. The papers in the possession of Captain Weth erell must be found. Tlie method of their finding troubled him. He could not, powerful though he was, conceiv trate sufficiently under the terrific strain upon his body to study out the best method of proce dure. Tile day before he saw Lucille was out of danger, the problem was answered for him by a call from the Governor of the province, in whom he recognized a man he had been instrumental in aiding, and one who feared him greatly. Instantly it was all clear to him. Here was one he need fear making no confession to. He had found out, aboard the boat, exactly whera the shipment of arms was to be made. He knew Wetherell might go hundreds of miles out of his course before the vengeful man-of-war, but he also knew that the goods must be landed at the designated place before he received his pay. Likewise, Hugo Loubeque was sufficiently famil iar with Chinese officials to know this one would welcome the chance to show his devotion to the government interests by making such a confiscat ion, as the international spy broached to him. Leaving a sum of money with the nurse liOubeque decided that when Lucille recovered she would be sufficiently well provided for to get) word to her people and escape from this, the last of her adventures. With a feeling of intense relief at knowing she oould not incur his hatred further, that she had reached the end of her re sources, he led a company of picked soldier* aboard the fighting craft provided for their transport and sailed toward the spot where the delivery was to be made. There in a tiny islet he arrived barely a day before the yacht put in with its illicit cargo. Loubeque trembled at the narrow margin by which he had reached' the spot. It made him doubly fierce when, from their ambuscade, he fell upon the boat's crew with his Mongolian soldiers. The skirmish lasted a scant hour, but already the spy had discovered that Wetherell, the man he wanted, was not with the outfit and he began laying plans for taking the yacht- Captain Wetherell, impatiently waiting for his men to return for a second load, had finally tired and was bringing it ashore himself, raging at the delay he had been compelled to undergo from the chase they had led the warship and now fairly wild at the dilatoriness of his first mate. His temper had soured completely after his rebuff by Lucille and the mutiny. He knew exactly the terms he was on with his men, knew that this would probably be his last trip, for all the crew had heard the name of Hugo Loubeque, whose power extended over thousands of men in every quarter of the globe. He had determined to lose himself completely that he might escape the vengeance of the spy's friends, when, from the. shore, suddenly shot out the boat his mate had taken in, but instead of the crew he knew so well, the. oars were now being manned by Chinese soldiers. Wakened from the gloomy day dreams in which he had been indulging he tried to put back, but his orders became confused and before he was well aware of what had happened, he found the side of his boat battering against that of the other, with soldiers piling recklessly upon his small crew, laying about them with sword and revolver butt. He caught a fla-sh of Loubeque laying about him, saw that resistance was utterly useless. Swiftly his hand sought the precious bag in which were the papers he had stolen from Lucille. He drew it open hurriedly, the sealed packet of papers—which formed the major bulk of its contents —and the diary falling at his feet. He felt Loubeque's eyes upon him, caught a flash of the spy as he sprang at him, with a derisive laugh hurled the bag with the heavy packet overboard. Without a second's hesitation, the spy wu in the water after it. Wetherell fairly choked with rage as he saw the man he hated close his hand over the bag. Then he was conscious of the diary still in the bottom of the boat and, picking it up, thrust it in his shirt. Loubeque was lifted back into the boat by his anxious men who, hav ing rescued their leader, turned upon the tain to wreak vengeance for the plunge. Wetherell scowled heavily as Hugo Loubeque brushed against him, his face smiling grimly as he looked down into the eyes of the yacht master. "Very foolish, Wetherell, trying to rid your self of me. Now, I think the sight of you mak ing a little jaunt up a hill with a swordsman behind you studying the oleanes