Gayne looked at the papers and picture strewn on the lawyer's desk. "I don't know about leaving the only proofs of our rights that I've got." Luther Wrenn turned to the desk and gathered them up. "Certainly. Take them to some lawyer in whom you have confidence." "Oh, pshaw, no," said Gayne sheepishly. "I didn't mean that. You were Mr. Loring's lawyer. You're the one to handle the case." "Good-day, then, Mr. Gayne." "Good-day," and Nicholas took his departure. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Wrenn seated himself at the desk and called up the Copley-Plaza. Diana was waiting. "Miss Wilbur?" "Yes." "Mr. Wrenn speaking. Mr. Gayne has been here. Please wire at once to the island and get some one to bring the boy to your hotel as soon as possible." "Yes, Mr. Wrenn." "I think Mr. Barrison is the one to ask," said Diana to Mrs. Lowell, who was waiting near. So it was that an hour later Philip Barrison was called to the telephone at the island store to receive a telegram. "I know what it is!" exclaimed Barney Kelly. "'All Saints' is going to outbid 'The Apostles' for you. You're the rising young beggar." He wandered down with Philip to the store and loitered about outside talking to Matt Blake. When Philip reappeared, it was with a hurried air. "Want anything in Boston?" he asked. "Of course, we do--the Brahms, but what's up?" "I've got to go. Wire from Miss Wilbur." "Aha," said Kelly, following Philip's long strides to the express wagon which Blake was just mounting. "No, no, no," returned Philip. "Naught personal. No such luck. Hello, Matt, going up-along?" "Yes." "See you later, Kelly, I have to go up to Miss Burridge's." And Philip jumped into the seat beside the driver. "No, you guessed wrong. You're going to see me right along," returned Barney, hopping up on the tail of the wagon and letting his feet hang over, while he whistled cheerily. CHAPTER XV A SUDDEN JOURNEY "I have to get the afternoon boat, Matt," explained Philip. "Miss Wilbur wants me to bring the Gayne boy to Boston in a hurry." Blake looked around alertly as his horse pulled slowly up the hill to the road. "Miss Wilbur?" he repeated. "Why didn't his uncle send for him? He is there." "Is he?" asked Philip carelessly. "I didn't know the island had been deprived of his artistic presence." "Yes. You bet he lit out when he saw by the paper that the millionaire he's had his eye on was dead." Blake shook his head. "There must be something doing or Miss Wilbur wouldn't be sending for the kid." "Oh, you know she and Mrs. Lowell made a protégé of him. My idea is they want to give him some kind of a treat, but I must say I'm surprised at the importance she seems to put on my bringing him--dead or alive, as you might say. She says if he holds back, through fear of his uncle's displeasure, to tell the boy his uncle is there."