“A criminal may dip the corner of his jacket in coffee, return to his cell, wring out the coffee and write with the coffee a secret message to some one who plots his deliverance. He, too, may be caught by this ultra-violet lamp.
“So now,” he concluded, “we have only to find the man who wears this shoe. Very simple in a city of three million.” He smiled a slow smile. “All the same, it’s a step.”
“An invisible step,” Johnny chuckled.
CHAPTER XI
HOTCAKES AT DAWN
When a person is thrown with a stranger in an empty land he is sure to learn much of that other’s ways. It was so with Red Rodgers. He was destined to learn much regarding the true nature of that mysterious young person who called herself Berley Todd. One fact he learned at once: that she was fond of doing things in a dramatic manner. In her own mind she was ever on the stage. Red had asked her to tell of her beloved Isle Royale. She was weary, had been awake all night. She had been cold and wet. She was hungry. Surely this was no time for telling of a place she loved.
“A cabin,” she recited, “a fireplace, chairs, blankets. We have all these. And now for the last of all—things to eat.”
Lighting a candle that stood on a ledge beside the fireplace, she went into the kitchen of the cabin. Soon she was calling to Red.
Together they carried in two large tin boxes of what were quite evidently left-overs of the party camping there that summer.
“Crackers, dried beans, oatmeal, a little rice.” The girl named the packages as she drew them forth. “Tea, coffee. Hurrah! Some coffee and prepared pancake flour. Hotcakes at dawn!” She tossed the package to the ceiling and caught it as it came down. “What could be better than hot cakes and coffee at dawn?”
Glancing toward the window, Red discovered that she was right; dawn was breaking. But to his relief he saw that snow was still falling fast.