They looked all about the island, coming back at last to the riven beech. But they found no mark of human occupancy on the island.
“I smell wood smoke, just the same,” Tom declared, sniffing the air. “There is a fire somewhere near.”
They saw no smoke, however, nor did they find any cavity in the rocks that seemed to have been occupied by man or used as the rudest kind of camp.
“Maybe he doesn’t live on this island after all,” said Tom. “He could get to half a dozen other islands from here in a light canoe. Or even on a raft.”
“He spoke as though he considered this particular island his kingdom,” rejoined Ruth. “This was the only place he warned me away from—not from the islands in general. I don’t understand it at all, Tom. And I don’t want the men to be unkind to him.”
“Well, it looks to me,” observed her friend, “that if we cannot find him, they will be unable to find him as well. So I wouldn’t worry, Ruth.”
But the girl went back to the Gem and sailed again to the headquarters of the moving picture company not at all satisfied as to the result of their undertaking.