As soon as possible Christopher and Mr. MacDonald had aroused the island, and every possible boat had started out. I telegraphed to Charlie Sands also, and he was on his way by the first train.
But all the next day went by, and no sign of the schooner or of Tish and Lily May. And as Aggie said, sitting up in bed with a bowl of junket—she could only eat soft food, poor thing—“We bay dever see theb agaid, Lizzie. They bay have to walk the plak or sobethig.”
I spent all my time on the beach, awaiting news, and at evening Charlie Sands arrived from the mainland. He came over to me as I sat disconsolately on a rock, cutting up fish and feeding the sea gulls as our poor Tish had always done, and listened to my story.
“Now,” he said when I had finished, “how many men were on that boat?”
“Three.”
“Three,” he repeated thoughtfully. “And my dear Aunt Letitia and Lily May. Is that correct?”
“And boxes and boxes of-f—of liquor, Charlie.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the liquor,” he said. “I imagine by this time——” He hesitated and sighed. “It seems rather a pity, in a way. Still——”
“A pity!” I said angrily. “Your Aunt Letitia and Lily May Carter abducted, and you say it is a pity!”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Just for the moment my mind had wandered. Now let’s see. They’ve had eighteen hours, and the percentage was favorable. I rather think—of course, I’m not sure—but I rather think it’s about time something happened.”