Although it was now fine, and there were occasional bursts of sunshine between the masses of swiftly driving clouds, the wind howled as loudly as ever. Nevertheless the Scouts were able to start a large fire, in front of which they and their involuntary guests dried their clothes.
Atherton's mind was fairly centred on the appearance of Tassh on the Island, and while the others were occupied he crossed over to where Phillips was standing with a pile of dried clothing under his arm.
"I say," he remarked. "Did you notice where the man went to? Did he go into the ruins?"
"No, he walked towards the shaft leading to Dollar Cove," replied the Second of the "Otters." "Baker spotted him and waved his staff and that made the man disappear sharp enough."
"Baker was a bit of a donkey to attract attention like that," said Atherton. "But I mean to find out——"
"Atherton, there's a man coming this way," announced Tenderfoot Sayers.
The Leader looked up. Approaching the camp was Paul Tassh.
The butler walked with short, jerky steps. His right shoulder was slightly higher than the other. His face showed that he was badly in need of a shave, for the lower part beneath his side whiskers was covered with a thick stubble.
"Good-morning, young gentlemen," he exclaimed, with a forced air of jauntiness.
"Good-morning," replied Atherton politely, as was his wont, although he distrusted the man.