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“ Scattered about on this beach were a dozen or fifteen little brown men engaged in spreading fish nets on the sand to dry. Bare of leg and back, they chattered and laughed as they went about their work without the slightest effort at secrecy or concealment. A little way up from the beach stood three or four rough huts. A fisherman's boat was drawn up on the sand, and, last of all, as the sun began to suck up the mist with increasing rapidity, the secret-service agent beheld the vague outlines of a small steamer such as the Japanese commonly use for deep-sea fishing. ”

“ Darrell had never happened to see Harrington Ives, but he felt certain this was he. There was a suggestion of mental power in the man's carriage and in his square, resolute face which brought a sparkle to the secret-service agent's eyes, and swept his lassitude away in an instant. The old keen interest in playing the game gripped him again. The capitalist's reason for being here might be perfectly legitimate, or, again, it might not. Darrell meant to do his best to find out. ”

“ As they retraced their steps, they saw a tender put out from the yacht and head toward the dock. By the time they reached the settlement, it had made fast, and a tall, fine-looking man of forty-odd years, dressed in spotless white duck, was striding briskly over the rough planking. ”