For a moment West lost all control over himself. He was too completely dazed for either words or action; could only stare into that mocking countenance confronting him, endeavouring to sense what had really occurred. He was undoubtedly trapped again, but how had the trick been accomplished? What devilish freak of ill luck had thus thrown them once more into the merciless hands of this ruffian? How could it have happened so perfectly? The boat on the sand in the cove yonder; perhaps that was the key to the situation. Those fellows who had left the Seminole to sink behind them, knew where they were when they deserted the yacht; they landed at the nearest point along shore, where they had a rendezvous already arranged for. Then what? The helpless raft had naturally drifted in the same direction, blown by the steady east wind, until gripped by the land current, and thus finally driven into this opening on the coast. His mind had grasped this view, this explanation, before he even ventured to turn his head, and glance at the girl. She stood leaning back against the closed door as though on guard, her uncovered hair ruffled, a scornful, defiant look in her eyes, the smile on her lips revealing the gleam of white teeth. In spite of a wonderful resemblance, a mysterious counterfeit in both features and expression, West knew now this was not Natalie Coolidge. Her dress, the way in which her hair was done, the sneering curl of her red mouth, were alike instantly convincing. He had permitted himself to be tricked again by the jade; the smart of the wound angered him beyond control.
"You are not Miss Coolidge," he insisted hotly. "Then who are you?"
She laughed, evidently enjoying the scene, confident of her own cleverness.
"Oh, so even Captain West has at last penetrated the disguise. No, I am not the lady you mention, if you must know."
"Then who are you?"
She glanced toward Hobart, as though questioning, and the man answered the look gruffly.
"Tell him if you want to, Del," he said, with an oath. "It will never do the guy any good. He's played his last hand in this game; he'll never get away from me again. Spit it out."
"All right," with a mocking curtsey. "I've got an idea I'd like to tell him; it is too good a joke to keep, and this fellow has certainly been an easy mark. You never did catch on to me until I got into the wrong clothes, did you, old dear? Lord, but I could have had you making love to me, if I'd only have said the word--out there on the hills in the dark, hey! I sure wanted to laugh; but that tender tone of yours told me what you were up to; what sent you trailing us around the country--you was plumb nutty after this Natalie Coolidge. That's the straight goods, isn't it, Mister Captain West?"