"Well, I'm not far from the mark. On Thursday we embark for South America. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. O'Higgins, the American detective, and were waiting against the hour when they could assist the young man in a sudden dash for liberty. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Or felt it. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. " "I didn't suspect you of so much superstition, Mr. . The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper.
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