"Years ago when I was first an exile here," said the man, "a Spanish ship came ashore one stormy night. Not a soul of her crew was saved. I found this money in the wreck. I will give you half of it if you will take me to Hampton with you. The other half I must keep till—till I learn from Mortlake's lips the secret he holds."
"Put your money back," said Jimsy quietly after a telegraphic exchange of looks with Peggy, "we'll take you to Hampton; but hurry!"
Fifteen minutes later a golden-hued aeroplane flashed past the Cape Charles light. The announcer posted there, instantly sent in a wireless flash to Hampton.
"Number Six has just passed. Two minutes behind Number Five (The Silver Cobweb), four persons on board."
Mortlake was among the crowd that read the bulletin which was instantly posted upon the field outside Hampton.
"I wonder who the fourth can be?" he thought, little guessing that through the air fate was winging its way toward him.
"Anyway," he added to himself the next instant, "the Mortlake is leading. Now if only——"
But what was that roar, at first a sullen boom, gradually deepening into the excited skirling cheers of a vast throng.
Mortlake looked round, startled. Out of the distance two tiny dots, momentarily growing larger, like homing birds, had come into view. Hark! What was that the crowd were shouting? Those with field glasses threw the cry out first, and then came a mighty roar, as it was caught up by hundreds of throats.
"The Nameless! The Nameless wins!"