Cora added her entreaties to those of her brother, and Laurel finally agreed to throw herself down on the straw bed in the far corner of the hut. Cora found room at the other end of the same bed, and presently their young natures gave in to the urgent demands of rest. Jack sat alone watching the white faced man who tossed and turned, muttering incoherent words.
"I did not do it," he would say. "I never saw the note."
"There, you want a drink," said Jack kindly, pressing the tin cup to the trembling lips.
"But Breslin knows! Oh, if I could only find Breslin!"
"Breslin," Jack repeated, astonished.
"Yes, Brendon Breslin. He knows!"
"Brendon Breslin!" Jack said again. This was the name of the wealthy man for whom Paul Hastings ran the fast steam launch.
"Oh, my head!" moaned the man, closing his eyes in pain.
Jack realized that this remark about the millionaire might mean a sudden return of memory, and he resolved to test it further, even at the risk of giving the aching head more pain. For if the memory lapsed again it might never be awakened.
"What does Breslin know?" he asked, leaning very dose to the sick man.