As Elaine and I disappeared, the naturalist slowly emerged again from the bushes and looked after us. Then he gave a hasty glance over the edge of the cliff at the man, twisted and motionless, far below.
If we had looked back we might have seen the naturalist shake his head in a manner strangely reminiscent as he turned and gazed again after us.
CHAPTER X
THE CONSPIRATORS
"You remember Lieutenant Woodward, the inventor of trodite?" I asked
Elaine one day after I had been out for a ride through the country.
"Very well indeed," she nodded with a look of wistfulness as the mention of his name recalled Kennedy. "Why?"
"He's stationed at Fort Dale, not very far from here, at the entrance of the Sound," I answered.
"Then let's have him over at my garden party to-night," she exclaimed, sitting down and writing.
DEAR LIEUTENANT,
I have just learned that you are stationed at Fort Dale and would like to have you meet some of my friends at a little garden party I am holding to-night.