“Well, doctor, you are a lucky man.  I did intend to silence you, but I’ll just shut you up temporarily; and now mind; if you make the least noise or attempt to offer resistance, you area dead man!”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

“I will be silent,” the man answered.

“I reckon you will, my friend.”

As our readers will remember, the detective had arranged to carry out a certain plan before he pounced upon the doctor.  Our hero had the knack of making little necessary articles, and he had prepared a gag, which he inserted in the man’s mouth after having first bound the fellow’s hands under him.  After inserting the gag, the detective released the man’s hands temporarily, until he had removed the prisoner’s outer and upper clothing, when a second time he bound him.

Indeed, our readers have already detected the officer’s plan.  He had determined to assume the man’s clothes, personate him, and risk the chances of an escape.  It was a perilous undertaking, but the officer had been taking perilous chances all along.

The change was made, and our detective fancied he had succeeded in making a most excellent “make up” in his “transform,” and when all ready he moved toward the door.

He had reached a part where the real peril commenced; but, with his hand on the butt of a cocked revolver, he ascended to the upper room.  The apartment was deserted.

“So far, so good,” muttered the bold man, and he peeped out of the door.

Again fortune favored him.

Two men were stretched out under the bluff asleep, and two more were down close to the shore.

“Now or never!” muttered Vance, and he stepped forth.

Had the men on the shore been close enough they might have discovered that something was wrong; but, at the distance, as they glanced at the detective, they evidently mistook him for Arbella.

The detective did not attempt to slink away—­he was too cool and ready-witted.  He calmly lit a pipe and wandered around, seemingly in a listless manner; but, at the proper moment, he moved away from the beach and soon disappeared behind some bushes.

“Well done!” was the glad exclamation that fell from his lips.

Once beyond sight he moved along rapidly, and made for the point where he and Taylor had landed the previous night.

Vance reached the spot in safety and stood a moment on the bluff looking for the boat, when he saw a man rowing directly across the bay.

“I hope that fellow lands here,” was the detective’s muttered exclamation.

The boat Taylor had left for him was gone, and he had made up his mind to appropriate the boat of the rower, in case a chance offered.

He sat intently watching the boat as it came nearer and nearer, and at length a thrill shot through his heart.  The danger was passed.  He recognized the oarsman—­Taylor was in the boat.