“Yes ma’am,” returned the sentry.  “I will send for him.”

A corporal appeared and took a message for her to Woodward.  It was only a few minutes before Lieutenant Woodward himself appeared.

“What is the trouble, Miss Dodge?” he asked solicitously, noting the look on her face.

“I don’t know what it is,” she replied dubiously.  “I’ve found something among the rocks.  Perhaps it is a bomb.”

Woodward looked at the package, studying it.  “Professor Arnold is investigating this affair for us,” he remarked.  “Perhaps you’d better take the package to him on his yacht.  I’m sorry I can’t go with you, but just now I’m on duty.”

“That’s a good idea,” she agreed.  “Only I’m sorry you can’t go along with me.”

She started up the car and drove off as Woodward turned back to the Fort with a lingering look.

Del Mar was hard at work in the library when, suddenly, he heard a sound at the panel.  He reached over and pressed a button on his desk, and the panel opened.  Through it came the diver still wearing his dripping suit and carrying the weird helmet under his arm.

“That Dodge girl has crossed us again!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“How?” demanded Del Mar, with an oath.

“I saw her on the rocks just now.  She happened to stumble on the bomb which you left there to be placed.”

“And then?” demanded Del Mar.

“She took it with her in her car.”

“The deuce!” ejaculated the foreign agent, furiously.  “You must get the men out and hunt the country thoroughly.  She must not escape now at any cost.”

The diving man dove back into the panel to escape Del Mar’s wrath, while Del Mar hurried out, leaving his valet in the library.

Quickly, Del Mar made his way to a secret hiding-place in the hills back of the bay.  There he found his picked band of men armed with rifles.

As briefly as he could he told them of what had happened.  “We must get her this time—­dead or alive,” he ordered.  “Now scatter about the country.  Keep in touch with each other and when you find her, close in on her at any cost.”

The men saluted and left in various directions to scour the country.  Del Mar himself picked up a rifle and followed shortly, passing down a secret trail to the road where he had a car with a chauffeur waiting.  Still carrying the rifle, he climbed in and the man shot the car along down the road.

. . . . . . .

On the top of a hill one of the men was posted as a sort of lookout.  Gazing over the country carefully, his eye was finally arrested by something at which he stared eagerly.  Far away, on the road, he could see a car in which was a girl, alone.  Waving in the breeze was a red feather in her hat.  He looked more sharply.  It was Elaine Dodge.

The man turned and waved a signal with a handkerchief to another man far off.  Down the valley another of Del Mar’s men was waiting and watching.  As soon as he saw the signal, he waved back and ran along the road.