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The boat was alternately lifting high and sinking deep as the great waves rolled by, and Traynor, while admitting haste and excitement, declared that he could almost swear that Loring received three packages and one of them must have been that now demanded by the Escalante's agent.
In a certain set Helen Traynor was not popular. Some people thought her old fashioned, strait-laced, prudish. They resented her having no taste for their frivolous, decadent amusements. They called her proud and condescending whereas, as a matter of fact, she merely asked to be let alone. Of course, it was only people whose opinions were worthless that criticized her.
If we don't queer the game and put them all in the chair it won't be my fault. We can't bring poor Kenneth back to life, but we can and will revenge his cowardly murder. It will be a positive joy to me to see that arch-scoundrel Keralio electrocuted." "What do you propose to do?" asked his companion. "Hadn't we better call Mrs. Traynor on the telephone and warn her before it's too late?"
"I tell you," observed O'Neil, "there's a bad pill* somewhere about us." * This means a treacherous person who cannot depended upon. "Ay, is there, Owen," replied Traynor; "and what is more, I don't think he's a hundhre miles from the place where we're sittin' in." "Faith, maybe so Jack," returned the other. "I'd never give into that," said Murphy.
"You omadhawn," said he to Traynor, "I was only puttin' up a dozen o' bottles into the tatch of the house, when you thought I was listenin';" and, as a proof of the truth of this, he brought them out, and showed them some bottles of poteen, neatly covered up under the thatch.
He had noticed that he had been drinking heavily something he had never known Kenneth Traynor do. With some impatience he said sharply: "What's the matter, Kenneth? Wake up, old man. I asked you a question. Can't you answer?" Handsome brought his fist down on the table with a bang that made the glasses dance. "D it!" he exclaimed angrily.
I don't think the trail will be hard to pick up. Spare no expense. Good night!" The last guest had gone. One by one the lights in the Traynor residence were extinguished. The servants, tired after an exciting and strenuous day, had gone to their quarters.
Still closely scrutinizing Kenneth's face as if greatly puzzled, he said: "You're not my master, sir. Mr. Kenneth Traynor left the house some ten minutes before you arrived." Kenneth stared at the man as if he thought he had gone clean out of his mind. "I went out ten minutes before I arrived," he echoed. "What kind of nonsense is that, Roberts?"
She was looking anxiously at Craig. I wondered whether she had heard of our visit to the Guiterases and what she knew about that other woman. "I don't quite understand," interposed Kennedy, with an effort to calm her. "Why do you fear for your sister and Mr. Everson? Was there something suspicious about the death of Mr. Traynor?" "Indeed I think there was," she replied, quickly.
It was the bold, lustful look of the voluptuary who enjoys letting his eyes feast on the prey that he knows cannot now escape him. "Mrs. Traynor," he began in the caressing, dulcet tones which she feared more than his anger, "you are an exceptional woman. To most men of my temperament you would not appeal. They would find your beauty too statuesque and cold.
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