"To-morrow, I guess. I'm goin' to stay home this trip, an' let dad take the boat to the quarry. You git Donaster, an' I'll take him out. But you'll have to come along, too, Gabe. I won't go without you. I might want help."
After some hesitation, Grimsby decided to go. He did not fancy the jaunt, but he favoured the idea, and if Eben would not go without him, there was nothing else for him to do but to go along. He could phone for Donaster in the morning, and he knew that the fellow would come at once.
This was what Grimsby told Eben, and he smiled to himself as he glanced at the unsuspecting lad at the wheel. He was playing into his hands, and he felt perfectly sure of him now. His next move was with Miss Randall and John Hampton. He was silent a long time as the boat glided on her way. Eben thought he was half asleep, but in reality he was very much awake, revolving in his mind a scheme which had been suggested by the mention of the coal mine near Island Lake. The more he thought it over, the more pleased he became, and by the time they came in sight of his house, he had the plan pretty well worked out.
"Guess you'd better let me off at my own shore," he remarked.
"Why, I thought ye was goin' home with me," Eben replied.
"I did intend to. But I'd like to visit my own family first. I haven't seen them for several days. I'll be on hand with Donaster to-morrow, so you be all ready."
In less than a half hour Eben rounded up the "Eb and Flo" near the shore in front of the Grimsby house, which was a poor, ramshackle affair. The water here was deep, so he was able to run close to the bank. A long-haired, ragged, dirty boy pushed off for his father in a leaky boat, and took him ashore. In a few minutes more the "Eb and Flo" was again under way, clipping along under the light breeze, bound for Beech Cove several miles beyond.
CHAPTER XIV
ANOTHER VICTIM
The garden in front of the Hampton cottage was at its best on a bright summer afternoon. As Mrs. Hampton stood in the midst of the flowers, her eyes shone with pride. She was very much at home here, and loved each flower, from the delicate, fragrant mignonette to the gaily-coloured, boisterous tiger-lily. The fence surrounding the garden was lost in a wealth of vines, chief among which was the morning-glory, whose vase-shaped blossoms were drooping sleepily beneath the sun's hot glare.