Tish made the raft while we prepared the food, and at exactly half-past twelve o'clock we left the house. Mr. McDonald saw us coming and was waiting smilingly at the upper end of the island.
"Great Scott!" he said. "I thought you were never going to hear me. Another hour and I'd have made a swim for it, though it's suicidal with this current. I'll show you where you can come in so you won't hit a rock."
Hutchins had stopped the engine of the motor boat and we threw out the anchor at a safe distance from the shore.
"We are not going to land," said Tish, "and I think you know perfectly well the reason why."
"Oh, now," he protested; "surely you are going to land! I've had an awfully uncomfortable accident—my canoe's gone."
"We know that," Tish said calmly. "As a matter of fact, we took it."
Mr. McDonald sat down suddenly on a log at the water's edge and looked at us.
"Oh!" he said.
"You may not believe it," Tish said, "but we know everything—your dastardly plot, who the red-haired man is, and all the destruction and wretchedness you are about to cause."
"Oh, I say!" he said feebly. "I wouldn't go as far as that. I'm—I'm not such a bad sort."