"Are you satisfied with your cook now?" the girl smilingly asked.
"Satisfied!" The captain paused in the act of lifting his cup of coffee to his lips. "Did I ever say I wasn't satisfied?"
"Not exactly, though you acted that way last night."
"I know I did, an' I'm of the same opinion still. I'm not satisfied while them fellers are out draggin' the river fer yer body."
At these words a startled look came into the girl's eyes, and she dropped her fork upon her plate.
"Dragging the river for my body!" she gasped.
"Sure, thar are several boats not fer from here now, an' the men in 'em seem mighty excited. It does seem a pity fer 'em to be doin' sich a thing while you are safe an' sound in this cabin. Thar's something uncanny about it, which is not at all to my likin'. Don't ye think I'd better holler out, an' tell 'em that you're all right?"
"No, no," the girl protested, rising to her feet. "Don't say a word. If they think I'm drowned, all the better. That's just what I want them to think."
"Good Lord!" The captain stared in amazement at the agitated girl. "What am I to do, then? I can't stay here an' see them poor fellers doin' sich a useless job. An' besides, they must be about heart-broken."
"Indeed they're not," the girl emphatically declared. "If they are the ones I believe they are, you needn't worry about them, for they have no hearts to break. I must have a peek at them."