“Five dollars,” answered the man.
Vane handed him a bill. “Take it out of this, and make any excuse you like. I’m going to put them on board the steamboat.”
The man made no comment, and Vane, striding down to the beach, sent a hail ringing across the water. Carroll appeared on the sloop’s deck and answered him.
“Hallo!” he cried. “What’s the trouble?”
“Get ready the best supper you can manage for three people as quick as you can.”
Then he turned away in a hurry, wondering rather uneasily what Carroll would say when he grasped the situation.
[CHAPTER II—A BREEZE OF WIND.]
There were signs of a change in the weather when Vane walked down to the wharf with his passengers, for a cold wind which had sprung up struck an eerie sighing from the sombre firs and sent the white mists streaming along the hillside. There was a watery moon in the sky, and on reaching the end of the wharf Vane fancied that the singer hesitated; but the elder woman laid her hand upon the girl’s arm reassuringly and she got into the canoe. In a few minutes Vane ran the craft alongside the sloop and saw the amazement in Carroll’s face by the glow from the cabin skylight. He, however, fancied that his comrade would rise to the occasion and he handed his guests up.
“My partner, Carroll. Mrs. Marvin and her daughter; Miss Kitty Blake. You have seen them already,” he said. “They’re coming down with us to catch the steamer.”
Carroll bowed, and Vane, who thrust back the cabin slide, motioned the others below. The place was brightly lighted by a nickelled lamp, though it was scarcely four feet high and the centreboard trunk occupied the middle of it. A wide, cushioned locker ran along each side a foot above the floor, and a swing table, fixed above the trunk, filled up most of the space between. There was no cloth upon the table, but it was invitingly laid out with canned fruit, coffee, hot flapjacks, and a big lake trout.