“And I think we’d better be going back. It will soon be quite dark.”
“Yes,” agreed the lawyer. “We had better go back.”
He looked up the river. The boat containing the two rough men was no longer in sight, but finally there drifted down on the night wind the soft put-put of the motor.
“We thought you had deserted us,” said Neale when he saw, from the deck of the Bluebird, the lawyer and the girls returning.
“We went farther than we intended,” answered Ruth.
“How’s the motor?” asked the lawyer.
“Hank and I will have it fixed in the morning.”
“Where is Hank now?” Agnes wanted to know, and it seemed as though she had begun to rely on the rugged and rough strength of the man who had driven the mules.
“Oh, he went off for a walk, and he said maybe he’d fish a while,” Neale said. “He’s a bug on fishing.”
Then, while Mrs. MacCall took charge of Tess and Dot, giving exclamations of delight at the flowers, even while comparing them with her Highland heather, Agnes and Ruth told Neale what had happened—the swift-departure of the motor boat and its two occupants.