As It Was in the Beginning   By: Philip Verrill Mighels (1869-1911)

AS IT WAS

IN THE

BEGINNING

BY

PHILIP VERRILL MIGHELS

Author of The Furnace of Gold and Thurley Ruxton

New York

Desmond FitzGerald, Inc.

Copyright, 1912

By DESMOND FITZGERALD, INC.

All Rights Reserved

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. A TRUSTED MESSENGER II. AN UNEXPECTED OUTBURST III. A MIDNIGHT TRAGEDY IV. THE NIGHT AND MORNING V. THE ISLAND VI. VARIOUS DISCOVERIES VII. A GREWSOME GUARDIAN VIII. PRIMITIVE CONDITIONS IX. THE MOTHER OF INVENTION X. THE MASTER POACHER XI. A MYSTERY XII. AMBITIOUS PLANS XIII. A MIDNIGHT VISITOR XIV. TRUANTS OUT OF SCHOOL XV. A NIGHT IN THE JUNGLE XVI. A DEAD MAN'S SECRET XVII. FEVERISH EMPLOYMENTS HALTED XVIII. AT THE TIGER'S KILL XIX. GRENVILLE'S RADIANT STAR XX. A GIRDLE OF GOLD XXI. MOLTEN METAL AND HOPES XXII. A TOMB OF STONE XXIII. A DESPERATE CHANCE XXIV. A DREADED VISITOR XXV. AN IRREPARABLE LOSS XXVI. AFTER TO MORROW XXVII. A FATEFUL EXPLOSION XXVIII. WHAT THE BLAST DISCOVERED XXIX. AN INTERRUPTED DIVERSION XXX. REVEALING AN INTENT XXXI. THE SILENT VISITORS XXXII. DEATH AS A BROTHER XXXIII. THE GIRL BEHIND THE GUN XXXIV. DYAK DARTS AND METHODS XXXV. A BATTLE IN THE SMOKE XXXVI. THE LAST CUP OF WATER XXXVII. A BREATHLESS MARGIN XXXVIII. GRENVILLE'S DESPERATE CHANCE XXXIX. ADDITIONAL HEAD HUNTERS XL. PLOT AND COUNTER PLOT XLI. A LIVING BAIT XLII. LONG HOURS OF DOUBT XLIII. THE HOUR OF CLIMAX XLIV. A LOTUS BLOSSOM XLV. THE LAST BOMB XLVI. A GIFT REFUSED XLVII. A FRIEND IN NEED

AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER I

A TRUSTED MESSENGER

Grenville was not the type to be readily excited, yet a glow of exceptional brilliance shone in his eyes as he met the searching gaze of his friend, and wondered if Fenton could be jesting.

That he had made no reply whatsoever to Fenton's proposition he failed to realize till Gerald spoke again.

"Well, Sid," demanded that impetuous lieutenant of finance, "gone dumb? Perhaps I haven't made it plain," and he particularized on his fingers. "You get an ocean trip of eight or ten weeks' duration, tropic sun at its best, leisurely business without a fleck of bother, absolute rest, good provender, thorough recuperation, your entire expenses cheerfully paid, vast service rendered to me, no time lost on your equilibrator, time for countless new inventions to sprout in your fertile brain and the unutterable joy of escaping this abominable climate, practically at once!"

Grenville's smile, still brightly boyish, despite the many reverses and hardships of his six and twenty years, came creeping to his eyes. His wan face suggested a tint of color.

"Don't wake me up for a moment, Fen," he answered. "I haven't dreamed anything like it for years."

"Dreamed?" repeated Fenton, resuming his interrupted pacing up and down the rug, where the firelight reddened his profile. "Does that mean you like it? you'll go?"

"Would Cinderella go to a ball?" replied the still incredulous Grenville, half seriously. "What's the joker, old chap? What is the worst that could happen at the midnight stroke of twelve?"

Fenton came at once and laid his hands on the broad, bony shoulders of his friend.