"You think so, but I have made a study of Muriel and of Kate Kenyon. I am still inclined to believe the moonshiner is the girl in disguise."
"An' Oi say ye're crazy. No girrul could iver do pwhat thot felly does, an' no band av min loike th' moonshoiners would iver allow a girrul loike Kate Kenyon ter boss thim."
"They do not know Muriel is a girl. That is, I am sure the most of them do not know it—do not dream it."
"Thot shows their common sinse, fer Oi don't belave it mesilf."
"I may be wrong, but I shall not give it up yet."
"Whoy, think pwhat a divvil thot Muriel is! An' th' color av his hair is black, whoile the girrul's is red."
"I have thought of those things, and I have wondered how she concealed that mass of red hair; still I am satisfied she does it."
"Well, it's no use to talk to you at all, at all."
However, they did discuss it for some time.
Finally they fell to exploring the old mill, and they wandered from one part to another till they finally came to the place where they had entered over a sagging plank. They were standing there, just within the deeper shadow of the mill, when a man came panting and reeling from the woods, his hat off, his shirt torn open at the throat, great drops of perspiration standing on his face, a wild, hunted look in his eyes, and dashed to the end of the plank that led over the water into the old mill.