...Then he saw a face. It gradually
fashioned itself out of the gloom high above the flames. He blinked
his eyes and stared. Somehow it was vaguely familiar, that face....
He lifted his head and peered intently. Then he raised himself on
his elbow, all the while trying to fix that floating face in his
mind.
Suddenly his brain cleared. The full picture was revealed: A man
standing over the blazing pile of box-wood, gazing down at him with
great, unblinking eyes. The sloping roof of the cave, half lost in
the thin cloud of smoke, almost touched the crown of the watcher's
head,--and this watcher was in the garb of a sailor.
Caleb Vick! Young Caleb Vick!
For a long time the two looked into each other's eyes. Courtney's
wavering and uncertain, Caleb's fixed and triumphant.
"Is--is that you, Cale?" mumbled the former wonderingly.
Young Vick nodded his head slowly.
"How did you get here?" asked Thane, sensing peril in those boring,
unfaltering eyes. His hand went out to feel for the revolver he
had dropped. "Where--What has become of the man that jumped on me?
The detective."
"I am the man," said Cale levelly.
"You? What's the matter with you, Cale? This is a hell of a way to
treat a friend. What do you mean by helping these--"
"Cut that out," snarled Cale. "It don't go with me. Get up! You
dirty cur,--get up!"
"My God, Cale,--have you gone crazy?" gasped Thane, going cold to
the marrow.
Pages:
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367