Prev | Current Page 290 | Next

Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"


You think it extremely rash of me to have entertained this man and
talked with him so frankly? Well, but consider. To begin with, if
I had not told him that we were after the treasure, he would probably
have guessed it; nay, I make bold to say that he guessed it already,
for--I forgot to mention it--he knows Harry Brooks."
"Knows _me_, ma'am?" I cried out, as all the company turned and
stared at me.
"He says so, and that he recognized you as you were sculling up the
creek."
"Knows _me_?" I echoed. "But who on earth can he be, then? Not--not
the man Aaron Glass, surely?"
"I was wondering," said Miss Belcher.
"But--but Aaron Glass wasn't a bit like this man, as you make him
out; a thin, foxy-looking fellow, with sandy hair and a face full of
wrinkles, about the middling height, with sloping shoulders--"
"Then he can't be Aaron Glass. But whoever he is, he knows you--
that's the important point--and pretty certainly connects you with
the treasure. He didn't seem to have met Goodfellow before.
Well, now, if he lives alone here--which, I admit, is not likely--we
ought to be more than a match for him. If, on the other hand, he has
men at his call--and I ask your particular attention here, Captain--
it was surely no folly at all, but the plainest common sense, to
admit him on board.


Pages:
278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302