Meanwhile, Ruth was carrying on an earnest conversation in undertones with Jack. She was directing his attention among the various small boats which filled the long room, to a particular one in the far corner, which was noticeable because of its bright green paint, and because it was the only canoe among many row-boats.
"It certainly looks like Marjorie's," she was saying.
"Where did you get that canoe?" she demanded sharply, turning to the boat-house keeper.
"I bought it from a young lady," he replied. "She paddled down the river. I give twenty dollars for it."
"That canoe was stolen!" cried Ruth, indignantly, as if to accuse the old man.
He thrust out his beard.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"I recognize it!" replied the girl.
He looked relieved and smiled.
"They's a good many models of the Oldtown canoe that looks like that one, young lady."