They paused for a few moments’ rest at the base of the cliff before starting the ascent of the winding pathway that led to the summit. Suddenly a rapidly-vibrating roaring sound broke in upon them from the upper air.
“The airplane has arrived,” commented Acey Smith, pointing to the machine swooping over the cliffs at the water-gate. “Just a little too late to find out anything worth while.”
“Who do you suppose it is?” asked the girl.
“It’s a government machine sent to locate you. I think likely it’s been put on the job at the request of your friend, Mr. Hammond.”
He watched her covertly as the colour came and went in her cheeks at the mention of Hammond’s name.
“Mr. Hammond!” she gasped. “Oh, then, we must go back and send word to him that I am safe and sound.”
“No, it will not be necessary,” he declared. “Mr. Hammond will be none the worse for a few hours’ suspense. You will meet him before the sun sets to-night, and you will then be the better able to explain everything.”
“Yes, I think he’s back, though the last news I had of him he was in Kam City. He had a falling out with Norman T. Gildersleeve and quit the services of the International Investment outfit. I expect he discovered they weren’t altogether the innocent angels they pretended to be.” He paused a moment, then: “Hammond is what few men of ability are nowadays—clean-cut and honest to the core.”
The girl dropped her eyes to hide the gratitude that welled up in them. What had it cost Acey Smith to make that magnanimous statement? For she knew now that he knew what she could not give to him would be Hammond’s for the asking.
They watched the plane make a landing, saw the airman examine the grounds and buildings, then re-enter his machine and fly away over the cliffs.
“Evidently thought better of staying overlong in the Cup,” commented Acey Smith. “Oh, well, there was nothing for him to fear; my men have instructions to molest no one coming here from now on.”
“You mean that the Cup will no longer be a secret retreat?”
“That all depends; it is a matter now for some one else to decide,” he answered. “Let’s go on up to the top.”
The summit of Lookout Cliff offered a wonderful view on this clear day of the lake and the forests below. Nannabijou camp from there seemed a tiny gash in a world of wilderness; the river and Solomon Creek silver threads winding down to Superior. On the outer side the cliff descended, a sheer wall, five hundred feet to the woods on the side of the mountain, the elevation being one thousand seven hundred and fifty feet above sea-level. The cliff is known among sailormen of the Great Lakes as the highest piece of land on the North Shore.
