"Odd--about that fellow," he observed during a halt. "I was sure I knew him, both times--last night as well as to-day."
"Last night?" she queried with patent interest.
"Oh, yes: I meant to tell you. He was prowling round the bungalow--Ember's, I mean--when I first saw him. I chased him off, lost him in the woods, and later picked him up again just at the edge of your grounds. That's why I thought it funny that he should be over here this morning, shadowing you--as they say in detective stories."
"No wonder!" she commented sympathetically.
"And the oddest thing of all was that I should be so sure he was Drummond--until I saw--"
"Friend of mine.... You don't by any chance know Drummond, do you?"
"You must have. The papers were full of his case for a while. Man supposed to have committed suicide--jumped off Washington Bridge a week before he was to marry Sara Law, the actress?"
"Why ... yes. Yes, I remember. But.... 'Supposed to have committed suicide'--did you say?"
He nodded. "He may have got away with it, at that. Only, I've good reason to believe he didn't.... I may as well tell you: it's no secret, although only a few people know it: Ember saw Drummond, or thinks he did, alive, in the flesh, a good half-hour after the time of his reported suicide."
"Really!" the girl commented in a stifled voice.
"Oh, for all that, there's no proof Ember wasn't misled by an accidental resemblance--no real proof--merely circumstantial evidence. Though for my part, I'm quite convinced Drummond still lives."
"How very curious!" There was nothing more than civil but perfunctory interest in the comment. "Are you ready to go on?"
And another time, when they were near the boat:
"When do you expect Mr. Ember?" asked the girl.
"To-night, probably. At least, he wired yesterday to say he'd be down to-night. But from what little I've seen of him, you can never be sure of Ember. He seems to lead the sedentary and uneventful life of a flea on a hot griddle."
"I shall be glad to see him," said the girl in what Whitaker thought a curious tone. "Please tell him, will you? Don't forget."
"If that's the way you feel about him, I shall be tempted to wire him not to come."
"Just what do you mean by that?" asked the woman sharply, a glint of indignation in her level, challenging stare.