“Hush!” begged Laura. “Don’t say a word.”
Purt and Lil were sitting together in the shade, 131 and paid no attention to what was going on. Almost everybody on the island but themselves realized the identity of the third figure in the Duchess before the boat neared the beach.
Suddenly Purt gasped, and sat up straighter. He glanced all about and a sort of hunted expression came into his face.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Sweet?” demanded Lil, in surprise.
“I—I thought I heard—Yes! I knew I could not be mistaken,” said Purt, in horror.
“What is the matter?” demanded his companion, with some tartness. She did not like mysteries.
“I—I heard a dog bark,” stammered Purt.
“Well! what if you did?”
“But on this—this island. Who—who could have brought the howwid cweature here?”
“Not that dog, Purt!” gasped Lil, suddenly remembering.