'I say, where are you going to sleep to-night?' asked Dick.
'Oh, well,' I replied, and I am afraid that my newly acquired wealth made me a little proud, 'I dare say I can find an hotel in Hazleton.'
'Do you think they will take you in?' said Dick.
'I wonder whether we shall see you in London,' cried Jacintha, 'because we are going home next week.'
'And I say, Everard,' said her brother, 'take my word for it, I should not be a scrap surprised if Captain Knowlton was rescued after all.'
'Dick,' suggested Jacintha, 'don't you think we ought to go in to tea?'
'Perhaps we ought,' he admitted. 'Well, good-bye,' he added, and with that he held out his hand. When I shook Jacintha's a moment afterwards, I wished once again that my own hands were cleaner.
'Good-bye,' she cried. 'I am glad the locket was not mine,' and then they both re-mounted their bicycles, rode up the hill, waved their hands once more, and disappeared from my sight.
In spite of the possession of the money for the locket, a sense of depression fell upon me. I had grown quickly friendly with the pair, and they seemed to bring me back to the life which I felt more acutely than before I had lost for ever.