"Burglary—almost everything! He is in on this; we feel sure of it. Morton tipped me to get him."
Rosalind studied the Englishman swiftly, but his face was impassive. So Morton had turned on the boatman at last! She wondered why.
"Don't forget the smuggling either," said Mr. Witherbee.
"I haven't," answered the master of the house. "I've sent for the customs men. I want them to look this chap over, and also that boatman—when we get him."
"Some of them think the boatman is a spy," Polly reminded him.
"Likely enough. But that's none of my affair. He can spy till he's blind so far as I'm concerned. I want him for housebreaking."
Rosalind experienced a qualm, not of conscience but of anxiety. She felt that her house of cards was about to topple. If they did get the boatman, what of her?
"Well, no use standing here," said Mr. Davidson. "We can't do anything more, I suppose, until the police come. Let's go into the library."
"And what'll I do with him, sir?" asked the butler, indicating his prisoner.
"Take him up-stairs and lock him in the attic."