“And wife!” exclaimed Cluff loudly. He whistled as a vent to his amazement. “That explains all the talk about a woman—a lady in his _quinta_ on the mountains?”
“Apparently,” said Carroll. “May I see that document, Mr. Sherwen?”
The American representative handed him the paper. As he was studying it, Galpy reentered, still scant of breath from excitement and haste. “He’s gone back to the mountains,” he announced. “Sent word for you to get to the port before dawn, if you have to walk. See Mr. Wisner there. He’ll arrange everything.”
“Will Mr. Perk—Dr. Pruyn be there?” asked Mr. Brewster.
“Trust him to come back for them when he gets ready. He’s a rum josser for doing things his own way. Now, about the train.” And Galpy outlined the plan of departure to the men, who, except Carroll, had gathered about him. The Southerner, unnoticed, had slipped into the room where the scientist’s coat lay. Coming out by the lower door, he was intercepted by Miss Polly Brewster. He interpreted the misery in her face, and turned sick at heart with the pain of what it told him.
She nodded. “Is it true? Did you see the permit yourself?”
“I don’t want to see it. It doesn’t matter,” she said, with utter weariness in her voice. “When do we leave? I want to go home. Send father to me, please, Fitz.”
Mr. Brewster came to her, bearing the news that the sailing was set for the morrow.
“I’m glad to know that Dr. and Mrs. Pruyn are provided for,” she remarked, so casually that the troubled father drew a breath of relief, concluding that he must have misinterpreted the girl’s interest in the man behind the goggles.
On his way to the _patio_, he passed through the room where the scientist had lain. He came out looking perturbed.
“Has any one been in that room just now?” he asked Sherwen.
“The coat and the other things are not there.”
Inquiry and search alike proved unavailing. Not until an hour later did they discover that Carroll had also disappeared. Sherwen found a note from him on the office desk:—
Please look after my luggage. Will join the others at the yacht to-morrow.
Thanks to his rival’s map, Carroll had little difficulty in finding the trail to the mountain _quinta_. A brilliant new moon helped to make easy the ascent. What course he would pursue upon his arrival he had not clearly defined to himself. That would depend largely upon the attitude of the man he was seeking. The flame of battle, still hot from the afternoon’s melee, burned high in the Southerner’s soul, for he was not of those whose spirit rapidly cools. Bitter resentment on behalf of Miss Polly Brewster fanned that flame. On one point he was determined: neither he nor the so-called Perkins should leave the mountain until he had had from the latter’s own lips a full explanation.