"More likely to pick us up! No, no, he'll be down on the bottom before the cutter gets around, and she will not run within five miles of where he went over, if she heads her course to overhaul us." "It's not a cutter," said Sol Burton. "Well, let it go so; that man Ballard is with the angels by this time," came the response. Meantime the detective was moving like a fish through the calm waters toward the shore. It was a smooth sea, and only a fifteen-mile swim, and he had gone aboard the yacht prepared for the venture. When Spencer Vance sprung overboard, he was oiled from his ears to his heels, and his clothing was ready to be peeled down to an oil-skin under-suit, lined in the inner side with soft wool. Like a fish he cut through the waters, and his heart was as brave as his sweeping stroke, as he propelled himself forward toward she shore. "It's all right, Johnny," he muttered, as he spurted some sea water from between his lips. "I'll keep my word. I'll interview Ike Denman when he is not looking for me; and, as to Sol Burton, I'll catch that man some day!" The detective swam along merrily, and, in less than four hours after having leaped from the yacht, he crawled upon the beach, and lay down in the warm sand to rest, burying himself like a mole; and there he lay for over an hour, when he rose to his feet, and started to walk down the coast. He was not sure of the distance he would be compelled to travel, but was assured as to the direction he was to take. Our hero was quite proud of his achievement, but felt a little blue when he observed a storm coming in rapidly from the sea; but his luck did not desert him. He saw a deserted cabin, toward which he made his way, and it didn't take him long to gather a lot of twigs and drift, and, upon reaching the cabin, he made a fire, and sat down before the cheerful blaze, as comfortable an individual as ever took a long chance in the way of duty. Once in the cabin, the brave man betrayed the ingenuity of his preparations for his perilous Venture, and verified ed his confident statement to Renie, that she need have no fear, as in good time he would come ashore again to tell the tale of his adventure. CHAPTER XXI. The detective had a thin rubber belt stretched under his arms; the latter served as a buoy and as a receptacle for the necessary articles which he knew he would require when he washed shore. Within the belt he had found matches, and weapons, and clothing, the latter of thin material wound as tightly as cotton on a spool; and, as stated, as the fire burned and blazed and crackled, he felt quite comfortable; and, as the storm broke over his cabin, a warm glow of satisfaction circulated through his frame. "This is just jolly!" he muttered, as he ate away at a good sandwich, and, later on, from his treasure belt he drew forth pipe and tobacco and settled down for a smoke.