Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 51, No. 2, June 28, 1930

Wallace’s drowned body was strapped into one of the seats. They found no trace of the sailor.

The tanks were empty, which accounted for the crash. In his hasty flight, Wallace had taken with him little more than enough gasoline to reach his rendezvous with the yacht.

His body was taken aboard the chaser. The commander cruised about for a while, but the sailor had evidently drowned and washed away.

At length the chaser headed west-south-west at full speed. Where the Circe had gone down they found traces of oil and a few bits of flotsam from the yacht, but no survivors.

They headed reluctantly back to New York.

“What a death!” muttered Hal to Morgan. “Searching, searching until his gas gave out — for a yacht that went to the bottom last night!”

“Better than electrocution. His death comes pretty close to what they call an act of God!”

Chapter XXVIII Restitution

Next morning Mr. Wilder called on Hal and his mother. The little lawyer was jubilant. He had just dropped in, he said, to tell them that an unknown benefactor had deposited to their credit half a million dollars each.

Mrs. Evans demurred. She said that Wallace must have stolen the money from Papaniotis and they had no right to it. Wilder insisted that Wallace had made more than a million in breaking Mr. Evans on the stock exchange. The money was his to restore, if he chose, and ethically theirs.

Hal went to the hospital that afternoon. Dan’s leg had been set as soon as he arrived. Now his temperature was down and he was doing nicely.

Before Hal went in, the nurse warned him that Bottis would be lame for the rest of his life.

Dan lay contemplating the huge cast in which his leg had been slung, above the level of his eyes. At sight of Hal he scowled.

“Whatcha want?” he demanded sullenly.

“Just dropped in to see which was uglier, you or Nimbo,” explained Hal. “I guess Nimbo was better-looking.”

Dan merely grunted.

“Going to look for that job when you get up?”

“ ’At’s my business!”

“Well, McHenry left me a fortune. So if you want a job chauffing for me, I suppose you can have it.”

“Might be willing to work for your wife!” exclaimed Dan, meaningly. “If you wasn’t around too much!”

“Haven’t got one yet!” snorted Hal. But he flushed.

“Huh! Well, you will, Handsome!”

Hal leaned over and stuck his fist under Dan’s nose.

“Now, listen, you mule,” he said. “Whether I marry or not, you and I are going to stick together, do you hear? If you marry, your wife has got to reckon on that. If you ever try to leave, I’ll push your ugly chin up through the top of your head!”

Dan turned his face away.

“Is that so?” he snarled huskily.

Hal turned in haste and stalked out, his heart warm with gratitude toward Dan.

Mrs. Evans had taken rooms in another quiet hotel. Hal had found her there, no worse for her adventure. He had his hands full, however, standing guard over her. The reporters were wild to get at them both.

Twenty-four hours after his rescue, Hal himself had nothing worse than a very sore throat to remind him of his narrow escape from death.

Dorothy had been sent to a nursing home to recover. By cashing a check and using his smile to advantage, Hal surrounded her with fruit, flowers, and anything else the doctor would permit. He was not allowed to see her.

Three days later she was well enough to leave. Hal went to get her. Mrs. Evans had rented a little flat and arranged it attractively with some of Dorothy’s furniture.

She let them in, noticed that they did not seem to have much to say to each other, pleaded some shopping and departed. Left alone, they faced each other squarely. Dorothy rushed into speech, her eyes shining with gratitude.

“Hal! I’ll just never forget! You almost gave your life to save me a little pain!”

“Here’s what I want to know,” said Hal. “When can we get married? Think we ought to wait a whole year?”

“Pooh!” said Dorothy explosively.

She turned away, touched this and that, then swung to face him, flushed but calm.

“Just because we’ve shared an adventure together I suppose! Don’t be so old-fashioned!”

“You know better than that!” said Hal advancing.

Dorothy retreated a little way.

Hal found that his breathing troubled him.

“Not because we’ve shared a bad scare,” he stumbled. “Oh, here, Dorothy, let me show you—”

He advanced another swift pace. Since she failed to retreat in time, they collided.

The shock of it to them both was out of all proportion to the impact. It lifted Dorothy off her feet.

After a moment she pushed him away, shook her bright hair back from her face and looked up at him with a self-possession that concealed anxiety.

“It’s not just romance?” she gasped.

“It’s the very tip-top of romance!”

“Why, so it is,” she admitted slowly.

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him.

“We’ll have your mother to live with us! Of course, I haven’t a cent. Heavens, I never thought of that!”

“She’s much too wise, sweetheart! But I guess we’ll have to keep Dan. One of his legs will be shorter than the other.”

“As if we wouldn’t!”