"A present from Aunt Mary," she answered, a strange tenderness in her tone. "For a good little girl who's caught a lord."
"A charming little girl," said Minot softly. "May I say that?"
"Yes—" Her brown eyes glowed. "I'm—glad—to have you—say it. I go in here. Good-by—Mr. Kidnaper."
She disappeared into a shop, and Minot walked slowly down the street. Girls from Peoria and Paris, from Boise City and London, passed by. Girls chaperoned and girls alone—tourist girls in swarms. And not a few of them wondered why such a good-looking young man should appear to be so sorry for himself.
Returning to the hotel at noon, Minot met Martin Wall on the veranda.
"Lucky I put old George on Tarragona for the day," Wall confided. "As I expected, Trimmer was out to call early this morning. Searched the ship from stem to stern. I rather think we have Mr. Trimmer up a tree. He went away not quite so sure of himself."
"Good," Minot answered. "So you changed your mind about going north?"
"Yes. Think I'll stay over for the wedding. By the way, wasn't that Chain Lightning's Collar you left behind you last night?"
"Y—yes."
"Thought so. You ought to be more careful. People might suspect you of being the thief at Mrs. Bruce's."