“Where are you going, Robert?”
“I’ll earn some money if I can. We’ve got a little, but it won’t last long.”
“It won’t be very easy to find work, I am afraid.”
“I shall be ready for anything that turns up, aunt. Something turned up yesterday when I didn’t expect it.”
“That’s true.”
Just then the fisherman was heard to stir in the adjoining room, and Robert, not wishing to be near when he awakened, hastily left the cabin to avoid a repetition of the scene of the previous night.
Mrs. Trafton breathed a sigh of relief when her nephew was fairly out of the way.
About an hour later her husband rose and without needing to dress—for he had thrown himself on the bed in his ordinary clothes—walked into the room where his wife was at work.
“Where’s Robert?” he asked.
“He had his breakfast and went out.”