"You are sure?"
"Positive. I tied the beast up near the dock when I went out in the boat. And he's gone!"
Rosalind could only blink at this intelligence.
"But I don't want to worry Mrs. Witherbee about it," added that lady's husband. "And of course we've got to keep it from Williams. So don't say anything. Good night. Grand watchdog, that; I guess he needed stealing."
CHAPTER XI
TREED!
It was early afternoon when Sam nursed the Fifty-Fifty into the rock-bound cove that formed his island harbor, made her fast, and stepped ashore. He advanced up the winding path to his cabin. Midway in its length he paused and listened.
A dog barked.
The boatman resumed his advance at a quicker pace. He caught sight of the cabin, then of an agitated red setter that ran to and fro beneath a tree whose branches brushed the roof of the dwelling. The animal was yelping nervously.
Next the boatman saw a pair of feet, shod in snowy white and outlined sharp and clear against the dark-green foliage. The feet were attached to a pair of ankles, also in white—ankles that were slim, aristocratic, even haughty.