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THE MOUNTAIN OF FEARS

boat,' thought I, and glanced at the map of the archipelago hanging from the wall. 'They will, of course, make for Zamboanga, but on the way they are apt to stop at Port Isabella.' You know the place, Doctor—in Basilan; a beautiful spot: the little village, the hot slope of open country rolling gradually upward to meet the cool forests on the heights; the late sun painting it all golden and shining back from the towering boles that form the ramparts of the primeval woods? They were most apt to be in Basilan.

"'I think we can find them,' said I. 'There should be no great difficulty in coaxing back two naughty children with the sweets you have to offer.'

"He kissed me on both cheeks; then nothing would do but I must go with him; a cruise de luxe would set me on my feet, clinch the nail of my convalescence. He began to plan a touching reconciliation, the little dinner which would attend this fête d' amour, the wines, the touching speech which he would

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