He had learned little of the slightest value; merely that Natalie had
been of the party leaving in the automobile the night before. She,
undoubtedly, had been the one who had dropped the note. Then, in spite of
all they said about her, in spite of what she had told him, she was
actually a prisoner, desperately begging for assistance to escape. As to
the other things Hogan had told him, the probability was they were mostly
lies. West did not believe the girl had returned to 'Fairlawn,' the story
did not sound natural. If she had written that note, these fellows would
never trust her alone, where she could communicate with friends. They
might venture to send her in to talk with him, knowing her every word was
overheard, but surely they would never be reckless enough to leave her
free to act as she pleased. That was unthinkable. Besides why should they
have taken this yacht, and sailed it out secretly in the night unless she
was hidden away aboard? The only conceivable object would be to thus keep
her safely beyond sight and hearing. And that would be a reason why
Hobart's wife should also be on board--to look after the girl. The longer
he thought it all over, the more thoroughly was he convinced they were
both prisoners on the same vessel. Yet what could he do? There was no
answer forthcoming; no possibility of breaking forth from that room was
apparent; he was unarmed, helpless. If he did succeed in breaking through
the door, he would only encounter an armed guard, and pit himself against
five or six men, criminals probably, who would count his death a small
matter compared to their own safety.
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