"Yes," said Mr. Fulton, and made no further explanation.
"But there were two of you on the island after me, weren't there? Who was the other hero?" Tod wanted to know.
"Where were you, that you knew there were two of us?"
"I was all doubled up in that little anteroom where the dog was—doubled up laughing." Then he added hastily, thinking he had teased poor Jerry far enough: "But I was locked in."
"Why locked in, if Mr. Billings had gone to bring your father? Afraid you'd up and rescue yourself?" Jerry's tone was downright sarcastic.
"No, Jerry—you see, the island—that is," looking toward Mr. Fulton as if for permission to go on, "that is, there's something going on on Lost Island that Mr. Billings figures isn't anybody else's business, and he didn't want to take chances of my nosing around."
"I see," said Jerry dryly. "So of course rather than row you across to dry land himself he brought your father here to get you. It's all as plain as the wart on a pumpkinhead's nose!"
"Now, Jerry, you're getting way up in the air without any cause. I'll tell you this much, because I think you've got a right to know: Mr. Billing's secret really is mine. Just as soon as I dare I'll tell you all about it. But what became of your friend—if there were two of you?"
"I was so peeved that I forgot all about Phil. It's Phil Fulton——"
"What!" cried Tod. "Cousin Phil. Where is he?"