orch of the cottage. The two visitors were so busy
talking that, for the instant, they did not notice the others.

"Hello there!" exclaimed Dave, in some surprise, as his eyes rested on
the face of one of the visitors. "How in the world did you get here?"

"I--er--I--er--It's Mr. Porter!" stammered the fellow addressed, and he
leaped quickly to his feet.

It was Ward Porton, the young man Dave and his chums had rescued from
the sea when the steam yacht was on fire.

"Dave Porter! Here!" came from the other fellow who had been seated on
the stoop, and now he too leaped up. "--I guess we had better leave," he
stammered.

"Link Merwell!" ejaculated our hero. It must be confessed that now he
was all but dumfounded. He had thought that Link Merwell must be in
Boston, and to find him here on the outskirts of Crumville, and in
company with Ward Porton, the fellow he had rescued, was almost beyond
belief.

CHAPTER VII

LINK MERWELL AGAIN

Link Merwell showed signs of both suffering and dissipation. His face
was thin and careworn, and his eyes had an uncertain, restless look in
them. He had on a business suit much the worse for wear, and his tan
shoes were worn down at the heels. Evidently he had not fared well since
Dave had met him in the West.

"I once thought you were dead, Link," went on Dave, after a pause,
during which Link Merwell had taken several steps away from the cottage.
"I thought you had been buried by that landslide."

"I know it," was the bitter reply. "It would have pleased you immensely
if I had been buried alive."

"That isn't true. I wouldn't like to see anybody lose his life in that
fashion," declared Dave. And then he went on quickly: "Did Job Haskers
escape?"

"I don't know anything about him--and I don't want to know," returned
Link Merwell, and his tone was as bitter as before. "Haskers didn't
treat me right, and we separated before we got caught in the sliding
rocks and dirt."

"I didn't know that you knew Merwell," said Dave, turning to Ward
Porton.

"Oh, yes. I have known him for some time," was the reply of the young
moving-picture actor.

"I think we had better be going," broke out Link Merwell, who had
retreated a step or two further. He showed very plainly that he was
afraid Dave might lay hands on him.

"Oh, don't be in a hurry," answered Ward Porton. "Now we've got the
chance, I'd like to talk to Porter."

"I don't think I'll stay," and Link Merwell moved still