She did not seek the path, but chose to follow the line of the shore in a direction opposite from that of the house. The morning air was virile. She breathed slowly, deeply, purposefully. She was a very healthy young woman.
"I have just arrived," she told herself. "I came down on a very early boat. I wonder if there are any early boats—regular ones. If not, I hired one.
"And it's all perfectly true, too. I did get here this morning; it was past midnight. My trunks came ahead of me. How they came to be sent down last night I don't know; I'm not supposed to know.
"H-m! That's not quite so truthful. However, it will have to do. Of course, I know nothing about anything else—if they mention it. Particularly the pa-pajamas. I never saw them; I never heard anything; I never went anywhere.
"I don't think it's lying—exactly. If it is, so much the worse for the truth. It's necessary."
She followed the shore for several minutes and then, when the walking became difficult, retraced her steps. Out across the river she could see the island where the second burglar-hunt took place. Occasionally she scanned the water in other directions, half expecting to see her boatman engaged in futile fumbling at his engine. But there was no sign of him.
"To think—a thief!" she exclaimed. "I employed a thief! I might have known he was a thief when he charged me ten dollars! And twice I started the engine for him! I can't imagine why I did it—except the first time. I wouldn't be here now if I hadn't done that. It cost me a new gown, but— Oh, well! What's a gown?
"Such a brazen thief, too—he accepted what I did as a matter of course! Bah! A dirty spark-plug! The thing is without excuse."
Miss Chalmers had reached the wharf again. Now she paused hastily and stood rigid, watching a figure that stood on the end of it. The man, who was tall and rather square in the shoulders, was dressed in white flannels. He was standing on the string-piece, his back toward her, his eyes searching the river through a pair of field-glasses. From right to left his vision ranged, while he stood with the military erectness of a bronze statue.
Once, as his head turned, she glimpsed the end of a tawny mustache. Then she knew him for one of the pajama trio. Involuntarily she looked at his ankles, and breathed a soft sigh of comfort when she saw that they were well covered.