From then until four in the afternoon there was nothing to do—the whole island went to sleep. “Punctual. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone. When I awoke I followed my instinct to Athena’s temple. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. “Listen,” she said. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. " He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. It was all highly intriguing. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him.
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