“Come on, then. We start at once.” Whether Mills decided it was best for him to consent to the trip or whether he was cowed by the detective’s stern manner, Wise didn’t know and didn’t care, but the trip was made. Wise directed the course, and Mills obeyed. Few words were spoken save those necessary for information. Their course lay out around the headland, and into the small bay on the other side of it. As they rounded the cliff, Wise directed the other to keep as close to the shore as possible. “Dangerous rocks,” Mills said, briefly. “Steer clear of them,” said Wise, sternly. After passing round the headland on all its exposed sides, Wise declared himself ready to return. In silence Mills turned his craft about and again Wise told him to make the trip as close to the rocky cliff as he could manage. “You want to get us into trouble?” asked Mills, as he made a quick turn between two treacherous looking points of rock. “I nearly struck then!” “Well, you didn’t,” said Wise, cheerfully. “You’re a clever sailor, Mills. Get along back home, now.” CHAPTER XV Criminal or Victim? Pennington Wise came to the conclusion that he had now on hand the hardest job of his life. This knowledge did not discourage him, on the contrary it spurred him to continuous and desperate effort. Yet, as he told Zizi, his efforts consisted mostly in making inquiries here and there, in a hope that he might learn something indicative. “It isn’t a case for clues, evidence or deduction,” he told her. “It’s,—I hate the word,—but it’s psychological.” “If you can’t be logical be psychological,” said Zizi, flippantly. “Now, you know, Penny, you’re going to win out——” “If I do, it’ll be solely and merely because of your faith in me,” he said, his face beginning to show the look of discouragement that she had learned to dread. “That’s all right,” she responded, “but this old faith of mine, while it will never wear out,—its effect on you will. Don’t depend on it too long. Now let’s count up what we’ve really got toward a solution.” “We’ve got a lot,” began Wise hopefully. “We know enough to assume that Betty Varian was kidnapped and her father shot by the same hand. Or rather by orders of the same master brain. I don’t say the criminal himself committed these crimes. Then, we know that our master villain got in and out of this house,—or his subordinates did,—by means which we haven’t yet discovered, but which I am on the trail of.” “Oh, Penny, are you? Tell me where you think it is? Is it through the kitchen?” “Wait a couple of days, Ziz. I’ll tell you as soon as I’m certain. In fact, I may have to wait a week to find out about it.” “Getting an expert on it?” “Nope. Working it out myself,—but it all depends on the moon.”