"Haven't seen a soul," declared the Captain, "and I've been busy right here since before you went out.
"Seems to me I did hear someone moving about at one time, but I'm not even sure of that."
"Well, whoever it was managed to move about enough to make work for me to clear up," Mrs. Seaford said.
"There's only one door to this house so how could anyone get out without passing me? You must surely be mistaken."
"The person, whoever it was, didn't care to pass you coming in, or going out of the house, so climbed through the window. On his way out, he knocked some plants from the window-sill. Nothing has been stolen, so I can't see the object in ransacking the house."
"'Taint poss'ble you're nervous, and imagine someone's been in, is it?" he asked, anxiously scanning her face.
"Imagine?" Mrs. Seaford said. "Well, come in, and see what you think. I've cleared the worst of it, but here's enough left to convince you."
He dropped the net on the sand, and went in. One look was enough.
"What in the world——!" he said, and no more, but his face spoke volumes.
It remained a mystery. Who would care to disturb the contents of the odd dwelling of the Seafords? Not a thief, surely, for it was well known that while the genial Captain had, at one time, been well to do, he had, for the past few years, had a struggle for existence. The old ship's hulk, inverted, and furnished for a home, held but one treasure, love, and that, priceless as it was, could not be stolen.