“Oh, yes—­always,” cried the girl, with a catch in her voice.

“Thank you,” said Mortlake simply.  “I don’t—­I don’t dare trust myself to, speak now; to-morrow, perhaps——­”

He strode abruptly through the door and was gone.

Old Mr. Harding arose to his feet.

“After this affecting tableau, is there anything you wish to say to me, hey?” he grated out.

“Nothing, sir,” said Mr. Bell, turning his back upon the wizened old financier.  “I have seen to it that the money taken from them has been returned to the Galloways.”

“Then, I’ll bid you good-night, too, since you seem to have taken possession of these rooms.  Come, Fanning.”

Without a word, Fanning shuffled across the room and reached his parent’s side.  Not till they were both at the door did he speak.  Then, with a malevolent look backward, he paused.

“Roy Prescott,” he said, “you’ve always beaten me out—­at school, at college, and twice since we’ve both lived in Sandy Beach.  There’ll be a third time, and you can bet that I’ll not forget the injury you’ve done me.  Good night.”

He was gone, a sinister sneer still curling his lip.

“Well,” said Mr. Bell, looking round him with a smile, “who says that all the adventure and excitement is in the West?”

“Not the Girl Aviators, certainly,” laughed Peggy, stealing a look at Regina.  The girl colored, and then, after a visible effort, she spoke.

“I want to say something,” she said, and stopped.  Her father bent on her an encouraging look.  Bravely she nerved herself, and went on.

“It—­it was I who dressed up like you that night, Roy Prescott, and—­and I’m awfully sorry.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Roy uneasily, and then, “say, you can run like a deer!”

In the laugh which followed they left the room and adjourned to a jolly supper, at which, who should walk in but Aunt Sally Prescott and Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft.  They had been reached by telegraph early that morning, and had started on the next train to Roy.  How the hours flew!  It was almost midnight before they knew it.  In the midst of the feast, a waiter brought in a message to Mr. Bell.  The mining man excused himself and left the room for a short time.  When he returned he was smiling.

“I’ve just signed on two new workmen for the mine,” he said, “and I think they’ll make good.”

“Who are they?” asked Roy.

“Well, one answers to the name of Eccles.  The other was, on one occasion, a foreign spy, but he bears the very American name of Palmer.  They leave for the West to-night.”