ped and fell headlong to the bottom of the
boat.

Before he could recover himself a heavy knee was grinding into his
chest, and the muzzle of a revolver made a cold circle on his forehead.

"What in thunder is all that racket about?" came down Captain Brant's
squeaky hail from the bridge.

"It's the cove we brought off last trip making a bid for freedom, but
I've fair downed him," went up Bully Cheeseman's reply. "Shall I shoot?"

"No," said Brant. "I want him for something better than that. I'll send
a hand down with some rope. Then you can truss him up, and we'll hoist
him aboard."

CHAPTER XXIII

IN THE STONE GROTTO

When the door of the stone grotto in the shrubbery at The Hut was
slammed in Enid Mallory's face by "the Bootlace Man" her first sensation
was one of relief that the repulsive creature had gone away without
maltreating her. This was quickly followed by burning indignation at
being locked in, so that her sphere of usefulness was limited to the
narrow confines of the mouldy moss-grown chamber. And her anger was in
turn succeeded by a humorous appreciation of her plight.

"This is what comes of aiding and abetting father's detective
propensities," she laughed, immediately checking her merriment lest it
should cause the return of her unsavoury captor.

Now that the door was shut the gloom of the mausoleum-like interior was
increased twenty-fold, the meagre light that filtered through the
ivy-choked window scarcely showing the walls of her prison. But by
degrees her bright young eyes grew more accustomed to the obscurity, and
she began to search for means of escape. Having embarked on the venture
more or less in a spirit of bravado, and being totally ignorant of the
tremendous issues hanging in the balance, she was more concerned to get
out of her pother without incurring ridicule than with anything else.

She attached but little importance to the triumphant insolence of Tuke
when locking her in. The words he had used suggested that he was acting
on his own initiative, and not on specific orders from Mr. Nugent, whose
approval he hoped to gain. It was possible that he might meet with
reproof instead of praise. But she was aware that there was no love lost
between her father and the gentleman on whose property she was an
undoubted trespasser, and she was annoyed with herself for having done a
silly thing which might make an apology necessary.

"If father has to eat humble pie to Mr. Nugent