"Only a week! I say this is extraordinarily good of you to come down here and see me." "Oh, I wanted to see how heroes bear their wounds," he smiled, but I felt certain there was something more left unsaid. "Jack, old chap, what's up? I see in your eye there's something else." He hesitated a moment and then said, "There was, but I'm not going to bother you with it now. I didn't know how fit you might be." Naturally I made him go on. "Would it worry you if I were to yarn a little about that adventure of yours in Ransay?" he asked. "Worry me! I've been thinking of little else since I came to this restful place. In fact I've been finishing off a full, true, and particular account of the adventure. Any further news?" His mouth grew compressed and a frown settled over his eyes. "Nothing definite, except that the infernal island has been worrying me a lot lately. You were quite right, Roger, and I withdraw my last doubt with many apologies. Something is very far wrong in that place. Submarines have been seen for certain two or three times, and signals on shore, and the devil knows all what. But we can't find a clue or a trace of anything to lay our hands on!" "And all this is since O'Brien left?" He nodded. "Yes. If he were in it you were quite right in suspecting a gang. If he wasn't, then the fellow, or fellows, are still there. I am quite certain now, Roger, that you were absolutely right. Some one is actually living in that comparatively small island, and working a lot of mischief, and we haven't even the foggiest notion who to suspect." "Have you applied to Mr. Bolton?" I asked a little maliciously. "Damn Mr. Bolton! The fellow botched the whole business. He lost the scent while it was still warm, and now it's as cold as mutton and one has to begin all over again! I wanted badly to have a yarn with you about it, Roger. You may have some ideas. Bolton had none and I have none." "Are you allowed to tell me exactly what has been seen?" "I am not allowed, but I can tell you, if you won't repeat anything." And so I may not go into particulars in this narrative. However, that makes no difference, for beyond indicating that the northwest end, out by the Scollays' farm, and the barren uninhabited tip of the island beyond, was the danger zone, these particulars gave no clue and suggested no fresh idea. Of course they naturally suggested people living in that vicinity, and yet this was far from inevitable because that coast was the best for the enemy's purpose, and his friend or friends on shore might come some considerable distance to get in touch with him. In fact, it would be a pretty obvious precaution to live as far from the scene of actual operations as possible; though equally obviously it would be a less convenient arrangement.