“I’ll see what we have,” she returned, wiping soap suds from her hands.
She walked down to the landing with him although she knew without looking that all of the boats save one were gone. The skiff had been rented out earlier that morning to another guest and Bill had taken one of the boats across the lake to gather stone for a new fireplace Mr. Brady was building. That left only a heavy, cumbersome craft which leaked rather badly.
“Perhaps you would prefer to wait until the skiff comes in,” she suggested doubtfully. “We seldom rent out this boat. It’s rather heavy and—”
“You keep it in reserve for yourself, eh?” the chemist interrupted with a knowing laugh. “Well, it looks like a good boat to me and I’ll take it.”
Madge started to protest then changed her mind. Without a word, she went to the woodshed and brought back a pair of oars which she fitted into the locks. Carelessly, she dropped a tin bucket into the bottom of the boat.
“What’s that for?” Clyde demanded suspiciously.
“Oh, just in case of a leak.”
The chemist should have been forewarned but the bottom of the boat was dry and he had implicit faith in his own judgment. Stepping into the craft he rowed away. Madge smiled as she watched him strike out across the lake. She returned to her dishes, but a few minutes later, hanging dish towels on the back porch, she observed that the boat had taken a direct course for Stewart Island.
“I wonder what he’s up to?” she mused. “I don’t believe he wanted me to know he was going over there to see Anne. I’d like to follow him over but of course that wouldn’t do.”
Though somewhat ashamed of her curiosity, Madge kept close watch of Stewart Island all morning. Toward noon the chemist’s boat was sighted returning slowly across the lake. She was amused to see that he frequently dropped his oars to bail water.