—was terrifying. As they emerged from the timber his eyes were straining for a glimpse of that cedar stump. It seemed an eternity before he made it out. Yes, there it was. But, God! It was naked! It was empty!
In an instant just what had happened became clear in Harrington's mind. Eckstrom, experienced crook that he was, had divined what he held in the bag upon his shoulder, had followed him with confederates to the island and spied upon him from a bush, awaiting opportunity. This came when Lahleet started upon her lonely walk. The attack upon her had been a fake, a ruse to draw him away from the gold. It had resulted disastrously for Eckstrom; but it had succeeded so far as the original object was concerned. The gold was gone!
Harrington wavered and leaned weakly against a tree. This was a perfectly staggering blow! It had fallen at the most inauspicious moment—threatening, obliterating his whole brilliant prospect. The humiliation of it was crushing. For a moment Henry Harrington was a very much dismayed, a very much embittered young man. Then he rallied. It was tough luck—fierce! Yet he could have done no differently. He had been the victim of cunning plotters. Wrath and resolution were quick within him. He plunged forward. He would survive the blow. He would trace and recover the gold. One scoundrel had got his due. The others should get theirs. Harrington ground his teeth, face aflame. He was "Hellfire" now.
But a new thought struck him like a bullet. There was another to be considered. Lahleet! more innocent victim than himself. It would be unfair to have her
