"Surrender the box to me intact, and I will pay you as a reward the money value of all the jewels and gems you may find in it." "Why are you so anxious to secure the box?" "It contains proofs of the identity of the girl." "And when her identity is established?" "She will come into her rights." "You know she has been debarred of certain rights?" "Yes." "How is it you have let her remain here so many years?" "I believed her dead." "When did you hear that she was living?" "I was summoned a few weeks ago to the dying bed of a notorious criminal. The dying man told me that he had been employed to run away with my child." "Ah!" interrupted the detective, "you are Renie's father?" "The girl is my child." "And you have all along believed her dead." "I have all along believed her dead; but the dying man told me that she still lived, that he had placed the infant in charge of a fisherman's wife named Pearce. He told me where the fisherman resided at the time the child was confided to his care, and I at once came here to find her." "Will you tell me the whole story?" "I can tell you no more." "Why not?" "I have reasons." The detective revolved the man's revelations in his mind. Had the man told him the whole story Vance would have been led to believe the tale, but despite his desire to do so, he still retained a lurking suspicion as to the purpose and motive of the man in the rubber coat. "Well," said Vance, "the girl is missing." "So it appears; but we must find her." "You are right; I advise you to begin an immediate search for her." "You will aid me?" "No." "You will not aid me?" "I will not." "Why not?" "I told you that if you desired my aid you must confide to me all the facts; you have refused, and I refuse to aid you to find the girl." The detective was testing the man, seeking to satisfy himself that the stranger really was the father of the missing Renie. "Very well," said the stranger, "if you refuse to aid me, I shall prosecute the search on my own account." "That is all right, but now let me give you a little advice; do not be found running around this coast unattended; your life is in danger." "And I believe," exclaimed the stranger, "that you are the assassin." As the man spoke he rose excitedly to his feet, and at the same instant, three men forced their way into the cabin. A moment the five men glared at each other in silence, and a strange and weird scene was presented. The strangers were determined-looking men, and, after a moment, one for them--who appeared to be the leader of the party--pointed toward the dead boatman, and said: "A murder has been committed here?" "Yes," answered the detective. "We found the old man lying here murdered, as you see." "You found him lying there?" "Yes." "But that man, but a moment ago, denounced you as the murderer." "The man did not know what he was saying." "You must give an account of yourself." The man in the rubber coat hastened to say: