I, however, for some reason, decided that the trio had embarked for Rock Island. Perhaps I was mistaken, but I thought that the most likely place for such men to seek. The island was a wild and rocky place, and provided they could get enough to eat and drink, they could stay there a month without the authorities discovering their hiding-place.
As I walked on, I wondered what Andy Carney had had to do with the whole affair, and what had become of the fellow and the stuff he had taken from the mill. I was particularly anxious about the valise, and the letters he had said it contained. I was sure they related in some manner to my affairs, and if I had them would not have hesitated to read them on the spot.
At length I reached the place where the shore became marshy, and then I concluded to retrace my steps, satisfied that nothing could be gained by proceeding farther.
I had hardly decided on this point before I heard Ford whistle, not once, but several times.
I turned, and picked my way back as fast as I could.
Ford continued to whistle, and I answered him.
“Rube! Rube!” he shouted.
“I’m coming!” I returned.
“Hurry up!” he shouted. “Hurry! hurry!”