"You know very well I came over with you in the boat and walked up here with you, Blent," growled the foreman, in some anger. "How could I hide him?"
"But the cook, nor nobody, knows what's become of him. He was here peelin' 'taters for supper, cookie says, jest b'fore we landed. Now he's sloped."
"He saw you comin', it's likely," rejoined Preston. "He suspected what you was after."
"Well, I'm goin' to leave Daggett. And, Lem!"
"Yes, sir?" said that slouching person.
"You got to get him. Now mind that. The boy's to 'pear in 'Squire Keller's court to-morrow—or something will happen," threatened the real estate man.
"And if he don't appear, what then?" drawled Preston, who was more amused by the old man than afraid of him.
"You'd better not interfere with the course of the law, Preston," declared Blent, shaking his head.
"You bet I won't. Especially the brand of law that's handed a feller by your man, Keller. But I don't know nothing about the boy nor where he's gone. I don't wanter know, either.
"And none of they rest o' you wanter harbor that thief," snarled Blent, viciously, looking around at the gaping hired men and the boys who had come to visit Cliff Island. "The law's got a long arm. 'Member that!"