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.
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