“‘D you see Moseley?” said William. “He could tell ye. He knows the Island—and everybody on it.”
“Yes, I saw him. He said the papers were drawn and signed—two weeks ago—in his office. You’re not dealing with Andy—this time, William.”
“I guess I’ll go see Harr’et,” said Uncle William cheerfully. “And don’t you worry, Benjy. The’ ain’t nobody going to set on your land without you want ’em to—it ain’t right—and it ain’t goin’ to be.”
Uncle William smiled—a great, reassuring smile—and mounted the zigzag path to the cliff. For a minute his figure loomed against the sky at the top. Then it disappeared over the edge, headed toward Andy’s house.
XIX
THE large man came softly along the beach, treading with light, smooth steps.
Uncle William, mending his net, did not look up.
The man paused beside him, and looked about—with pleased, expansive eye.