"Come on," called Fanning from outside, "we've got to win this race back."
The girl lingered hesitatingly an instant and the next moment was gone.
"The fog is lifting," said Peggy, "we must be going, too. Come along Jess. Come on, Jimsy, we don't want to let the Mortlake craft beat us at the eleventh hour."
"What name was that you just mentioned?" asked the man of the island, quickly. He was bending forward eagerly, as if to catch the answer.
"Do you mean Mortlake?"
"Yes, that's the name. What of him? Do you know him?"
The man's eyes gleamed brightly. He seemed to be much excited. Peggy answered him calmly, although she felt as if some sort of a life tragedy was working out to swift conclusion.
"Of course, Mr. Eugene Mortlake is the man who is manufacturing the Mortlake aeroplane. He is our chief rival. That's the reason we must hurry off."
"Why, did they?" the man nodded his head in the direction in which Fanning and Regina had vanished, "did they come in a Mortlake aeroplane?"
"Yes," said Peggy, "didn't you know? That girl is Mr. Mortlake's daughter, Regina Mortlake."