XI.

At the very moment when Wilbur Gaylord was plotting the ruin of the American end of the Starbuck syndicate, Ray Folsom and Eve sat talking in a comfortable sitting room of the imposing Lord Derricote castle off the Isle of Skye.

Once the Raven had set her bows toward the island and Starbuck had realized that Ray knew all, so to speak, he had raised all embargoes and permitted Ray to talk with Eve at will. In fact, Starbuck, with a great show of mock courtesy, had introduced the pair.

“We all may as well be comfortable,” he remarked. “You’ll both like Derricote Castle. We are more than hospitable there.”

“Can’t bear to see us go, eh?” Ray flung in.

“On the contrary, I shall be no end relieved when you are gone,” laughed Starbuck.

In spite of himself, Ray could not but admire the cool recklessness of the man. He went so far as to venture: “Seems to me you are storing up a whole lot of trouble for yourself, Mr. Starbuck.”

To which the other retorted: “You just ought to see me sidestep. My footwork is faultless, as you will observe one day.”

Eve, Ray found, was the most self-confident, cocksure female he had ever come across. She was openly contemptuous of Starbuck.

“You are riding for an awful bump,” she frankly told that individual. “No matter what you do, my father will have your scalp. Beside him, you are something less than zero. I have seen better men than you try to outwit him. That’s why I do not care much what you do with me. I just feel sorry for what’s going to happen to you.”

Which caused Starbuck to grin and say: “You may be right. Who knows?”

But one could see that the man felt he was perfectly safe.

Of course, while the powerful radio plant on the Raven had been more than active, neither Ray nor Eve could know what was being sent through the air to the Gaylord station across the sea. They hooked this activity up with the plans of Starbuck to obtain a ransom, of course. But as to the terms, they were quite in the dark.

Derricote Castle would have been a charming spot, under other conditions, Ray thought. But it was the winter season when, in that part of the world, a grayish yellow fog obscures land and sea most of the time. Ray had heard about Scottish winters, but never had experienced one before.

Still, the uncertainty of the game in which he and Eve were pawns made up for a lot, and on the whole life at Derricote Castle was lazy and comfortable. The island, as has been said, was twelve miles off Skye, and the Raven rode snugly in a small cove which gave the island something the shape of a crescent moon.

Captain Trumper remained on board the yacht, as did Sayles. The men, Grundy and Mapes, slipped into the rôle of house servants under the direction of Koli, who seemed to be everywhere at once.

The wireless operator, whose name Ray had not heard, of course remained at his post. Miss Dollis acted as a sort of companion-keeper to Eve.

The two prisoners were free to prowl about the island except when fishing or other boats came in close. Then they were gently but firmly detained indoors. Nothing rough, but still effective, as on the occasion when Ray harbored the thought of swimming ashore at Liverpool.

Such scant information as they were able to glean was coaxed out of Miss Dollis by Eve. The confidence occurred after the lady had partaken too liberally of champagne. Anyhow, Eve succeeded in drawing the other out with astonishing results.

Starbuck, Miss Dollis declared, was the master criminal of the world. Always he worked on a grand scale and never had spent a night in jail. He was practically unknown to the police. She laughingly told how he once had sold a southern island to a group of wise New York and London investors.

He had chartered a ship and escorted his prospective victims in person. First he had posed as a rich globe-trotter for the benefit of the Imperial Fruit Company officials, and obtained a letter from the president to the superintendent residing on the island, which itself was owned by the fruit company.

The letter bespoke every courtesy for its bearer, and the glib Starbuck managed to convey the impression that he was the owner of the profitable acres which he exhibited to his guests.

Having first convinced the agent that he was about to perpetrate a harmless hoax on his friends by pretending to sell them the island, and having thus made an ally of the man, he had gone blithely about with maps and figures, and so well lined them up that, five days after the ship returned to her home port, Starbuck had given bogus deeds to a million dollars’ worth of fruit acreage and had in his pockets something like one-third of that sum to go on with.

Miss Dollis, who admitted that living by her wits appealed to her, owned to having worked twice before with Starbuck.

Eve retailed this to Ray, and both of them laughed over it.

“But,” declared Eve, “my father is the rock Mr. Smarty Starbuck is going to crack up on. You’ll see.”

Her confidence was infectious; nevertheless, Ray was constantly casting about for a plan that might hold promise of escape for him and the girl.

They were not under constant surveillance, although a sort of watch tower had been rigged over the stable, and one of the three men was to be found there most of every day. There were a few spots on the island, however, that were not visible to the sentinel.

At least, Ray had noted some such places. He wondered how he could turn this feature to account, but never imagined that his chance would come as it did or turn out as it did.

It was the sight of a sea plane, probably from the naval base at Greenock, that set him thinking. On two different occasions he had noticed the craft, flying at a moderate altitude off the island.

And having looked the ground over carefully, the young man proceeded to appropriate a certain flash light that normally reposed on a little shelf at the head of the flight of steps leading to the wine cellar.

Any aviator would be familiar with Morse, Ray knew. He would watch his opportunity, and if the plane ever got close enough, there was a slight depression some two hundred yards to the west of the house, where he could conceal himself and flash a signal to the pilot—a message that would bring help quickly.

He confided his hopes to Eve, and the girl went dizzy with excitement over the prospect of managing their own release. She implored him to be careful, however, to leave the torch in its accustomed place until he should again glimpse the plane. It was two days afterward that the chance came.

Along about three o’clock in the afternoon, when the short northern day was merging into dusk, Ray caught the drone of a motor. Hastily obtaining the torch, he slipped away to the spot he had in mind and concealed himself in the hollow where he had figured he would be unobserved. Then waited with beating heart for the plane to approach close enough for communication.

Luck favored him. The sea plane passed to the north some two miles off the shore, then swung about and laid her course almost directly over the island. When she had reached the point where the visibility was, in Ray’s judgment, best, he let go with his flash.

Swiftly he spelled the words:

Send help quickly.

This message he repeated the second time, and was gratified to see the machine turn and circle a little lower, perhaps, he thought, to better read the flashes.

And then, just at the instant of his triumph, when the hope of actual rescue surged high within him, there came a startling interruption.

He had reached the last two letters of the last word when the sharp crack of a rifle sounded and the torch in his hand flew into a hundred pieces, while the shock of the impact jarred his arm so severely that at first he thought that member had been struck.

Through the gathering dusk a diminutive figure came running; Koli’s voice, warped into a snarl, cut in with “What Missa Folsom up to? Come out here or I shall kill you!”

Ray turned to face the Jap’s automatic, and knew that he had been so careless as to expose his flash to the view of the Jap at his post in the watch tower.

Now, urged by the enraged Koli, Ray marched meekly enough to the house. There he found Starbuck well up in the air.

The latter snapped: “You’re a bigger fool than I thought you, Folsom. You can’t get away with that stuff.”

“Perhaps not,” Ray told him, confident that his message had been absorbed, “but I had a good try, at any rate.”

For the first time that evening, both the prisoners were under close guard. Starbuck kept going outside to listen, and near ten o’clock he returned from one of these expeditions fairly flaming with anger.

To Grundy and Mapes he said:

“Bundle these two into the wine vault, then come back here.”

Whereupon Ray and Eve were forced to the cellar and locked in among the tiers of musty bottles.

Above stairs, Starbuck watched anxiously as flares were dropped off his landing place and three sea planes came to rest close to the shore. He was ready and waiting when their crews, well armed and alert, waded ashore in the shallow water and dragged their planes to points of safety.

A young officer led his companions quickly to where Starbuck stood, Koli at his elbow.

“What’s the trouble here?” demanded the officer.

“No trouble,” answered Starbuck. “That is, nothing real. Fact is, one of my chaps got blotto this afternoon and fancied he was back in no man’s land or somewhere; began sending out distress signals. Still thinks it was funny, I dare say, if he isn’t asleep. I’m sorry, boys. It’s a pity you should be bothered like this, but if you’ll join me in something to drink and a bite of supper I shall appreciate it. What?”

Disgruntled though they were, the hoodwinked flyers could not see how they stood to lose by this arrangement, and accompanied Starbuck to the house, where they proceeded to get tight enough to carry out some intricate flying on their way back to their base at Greenock. And when they were well away Starbuck ordered Ray and Eve released.

“You see,” he remarked, when the crestfallen pair faced him, “it’s one thing to shoot off a gun, and another thing to hit something. I hope to Heaven I’m through with you both and well away from here in a few days. You make me nervous.”

“Damned shame,” Ray muttered as the key was turned on him that night. “Those chaps were there, all right. But, by George, Starbuck is no slouch. Eve’s father will have to go some. And now I’ll have to begin all over again.”