As he spoke, his glance fell upon Victoria. At the mention of Dave Carney she too had become very white. She was thinking of Sophy’s dream. She almost wished that she could get speech with Roger Madison alone. She should like to tell him the whole story and ask him if there were not some way of saving Dave from the iron hand of the law. She felt that if he were arrested, it would stain his reputation forever.

She did not for a moment believe that he was guilty, and yet—there was Sophy’s dream! Was it her duty to tell Mr. Madison this, or not? She would certainly not give her Aunt Sophia the benefit of the information. In the meantime Peter spoke.

“I know more about Dave Carney than any of you,” said he, “and you needn’t try to make me think that he had anything to do with it. I’ve been with him a lot, and I know him, and nobody has any right to say anything about him in connection with it.”

But confidently as Peter spoke he too felt uneasy, for he distinctly remembered the occasion of his first meeting with Carney.

He had been stealing apples!

CHAPTER XVII.
ON THE RIVER.

Victoria concluded that if she wished to save Dave Carney, her best course was to say nothing to Mr. Madison. He would not be influenced by any feeling of pity for Dave, she feared, and if he knew that Sophy had imagined that the boy passed through the room, he would consider it his duty to tell the detective of the fact.

Victoria remembered that Sophy had been very confident when the incident occurred that she had not been dreaming, and the torn vines and the open door proved conclusively that some one had climbed in at the window. Victoria in her own mind was almost if not entirely convinced that it was Carney, but there was nothing to cause any one else to suspect him,—with the exception of her aunt, who suspected him on principle,—and if Victoria remained silent, she hoped that the boy would escape.

But then, again, was this course right? If Carney were so depraved as to steal from the family who had treated him with such kindness, surely it was their duty to deliver him into the hands of justice. Victoria knew that this would be Roger Madison’s opinion. She had just determined to say nothing and to allow matters to take their course without interference from her, when something which Peter said to her again unsettled her.

The boy was in the hammock, which was hung across one end of the piazza directly in front of the dining-room window. Seeing Victoria within, where she was busily washing the breakfast dishes, he called to her to come to him.