He calmly lit a pipe and wandered around,
seemingly in a listless manner; but, at the proper moment, he
moved away from the beach and soon disappeared behind some
bushes.
"Well done!" was the glad exclamation that fell from his lips.
Once beyond sight he moved along rapidly, and made for the
point where he and Taylor had landed the previous night.
Vance reached the spot in safety and stood a moment on the
bluff looking for the boat, when he saw a man rowing directly
across the bay.
"I hope that fellow lands here," was the detective's muttered
exclamation.
The boat Taylor had left for him was gone, and he had made up
his mind to appropriate the boat of the rower, in case a
chance offered.
He sat intently watching the boat as it came nearer and
nearer, and at length a thrill shot through his heart. The
danger was passed. He recognized the oarsman--Taylor was in
the boat.
The latter rowed straight to the beach and glanced around in a
cautious manner, when the detective moved down and hailed him,
in a low tone.
Taylor did not recognize the detective at the first glance,
and settled down to his oars as though intending to pull off,
when our hero called him by name, and an instant later a full
recognition had taken place.
"Well;" exclaimed Taylor, "you are safe!"
"Yes, I am safe."
"What have you discovered?"
"The whole business."
"And you have not been detected?"
"Oh, yes, I was fallen on several times, but I managed to
creep out of a hot spot each time; but come, we have no time
to spare.
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