“I did see her in the corridor of the hotel not long ago,” replied Nancy, “but when she recognized me she flew down a side hall. Miss Campbell wanted to ask her to luncheon with us and tried to catch her, but she had disappeared.”
“Ever since you saved my life, Billie,” here broke in Timothy, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I’m almost certain it was Clarence Paxton who yelled ‘sharks,’ that morning. Of course I couldn’t testify in a court about it, because when you are chasing around in deep water you are not apt to examine people’s lineaments. Anyway, it was not his face I recognized, but his laugh. The last time he pitched the ball he gave a jeering laugh, and that was why I kept on swimming farther out. I had a feeling he thought I couldn’t.”
“If it was Clarence, he was punished,” said Nancy. “His Grandmamma beat him well with her stick; for I saw her do it and he saw me see her and I saw that he saw that I saw her——” she finished breathlessly, while the others laughed and clapped their hands.
“Bravo! Bravo!” cried Timothy.
They now entered a road which was not unlike a green tunnel. As a matter of fact, it was a tunnel, only it had been cut through vegetation and not through earth and rock.
“This must be the road to Miami,” observed Billie. “You see it is cut through the jungle. Isn’t it wonderful?”
On each side of them tropical trees had grown in such thick profusion and were so closely interwoven with vines and undergrowth as to form an impenetrable wall.
“This must be a dreadful place to be lost in,” said Timothy seriously. “There are paths that lead through it, they say. But it is said that the people who ventured to find them were lost themselves and never returned.”
“Criminals have hidden there——” Mary began, when the sound of another motor coming up behind at a tremendous rate of speed attracted their attention from the jungle. It was a gray racing car and as it flashed past them, Billie and Nancy exchanged a meaning glance.
The other girls had heard the story of their strange adventure that night at the l’Estranges, but they had half forgotten it already, since it was only a fight after all. However, it had been a very real occurrence to Billie and Nancy. They wondered if the gray car contained a man who thought he had committed a murder; and was that man Ignatius Donahue? Of course, there may have been other Ignatius Donahues in the world, but since that night, they had heard no more from Mr. Campbell’s old friend.