“Then there certainly isn’t a minute to lose in reaching Folkestone,” said Dorothy decisively. “We’ll just stop for lunch and go right down.” It was a day of wonders. Since the night when we had searched for Joslinn, Dorothy and I had never been alone together. The ride from the station to the Savoy was a glorified pilgrimage; the lunch, as we sat looking out on the embankment bathed in sunshine, was a celestial repast, even the time of waiting in the hotel for Dorothy to condense her luggage, and make ready for the coming trip, was a delight. But best of all was the trip down to Folkestone. The guard smiled widely at the golden sovereign which saved the compartment for us, and the porter heaped attentions on us for his tip, but the value which they purchased was priceless. Two hours of speeding through the lovely English country in a tête-à-tête with my lady. All too soon came Folkestone, and there beside the train was Tom. “I’ve got him,” he whispered excitedly. “Hurry up, it’s just time to take another reading.” As we bowled along through the old streets, Tom hurriedly told us of his experience. “He’s experimenting constantly now,” he said. “He sent off some waves yesterday afternoon about four o’clock, just after I got the apparatus going; sent off some more about ten, and some this morning, a little after nine. They’re all from some place out in the Channel, over towards the French coast. They’re from practically the same spot, so I got everything ready for an instant departure on our little boat, and the moment we hear from him again, we’ll start straight for him.” Dorothy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’m so glad I got here. I wouldn’t miss the end for anything.” “But you’re not going with us on the yacht?” I said anxiously. “Of course she’s not,” said Tom gruffly. “Well, I am,” said Dorothy, “and that’s all there is about it.” Tom and I broke out in a jumble of incoherent objections, which Dorothy met with smiling assurance. “You think ‘the man’ may be desperate if we find him,” she said. “Well, I don’t for a minute believe he will be. He’s doing too big a thing to have anything against ordinary people, and if something did happen, you’d need me to protect you.” Ten minutes more of the drive brought ten minutes more of heated discussion, but it brought us no victory, and the end of the debate came when Tom gave in with the brotherly remark: “Well, go your own confounded, obstinate way then.” To which Dorothy, as calm and smiling as a summer morn, responded simply, “I shall.”