“You can’t stay here alone another night,” Madge protested. “If you don’t care to come to the lodge, then I think I should remain here.”
“I wish you would!”
Madge did not look forward to a night at Stewart Island. She preferred her own comfortable room at the lodge to the gloomy, barn-like Fairaday home. However, for the sake of her friend, she was glad to undergo a little inconvenience. After promising to return before nightfall, she took her leave.
Half way across the lake, she swung her canoe toward the lookout tower. Before she could climb the long flight of iron stairs to the platform, Jack French came down the trail, whistling a cheerful tune. He broke off as he saw Madge and greeted her with a broad smile.
“Hello, there. Why the serious expression so early in the morning?”
“I’ve had no breakfast for one thing. And for another, exciting events have taken place during the night.”
“If this apple will help stave off the pangs of hunger, you’re welcome to it,” he said, taking a polished red Winesap from his jacket pocket. “Perhaps it will give you strength to tell me all about the excitement.”
Madge accepted the apple gratefully.
“I’m afraid you’d give away the shirt off your back, Jack,” she smiled.
“I would to you,” he returned quietly. She glanced up, surprised at the tone of his voice. Before she could divine his meaning, he laughed. “What’s an apple, Madge? No sense getting sentimental about one when I’ve a case at home.”