His thoughts were broken off by a sudden burst of laughter. It was the mystery girl.
“That—that,” she stammered, with an effort at self control. “It was not I who screamed, but a loon, a silly old loon! Have you never heard a loon scream in the night?”
“Never.”
“Then you are to be forgiven. When a loon goes about the business of screaming in earnest, he can put a drowning woman to shame. We who have heard them often become so accustomed to them that we scarcely hear them at all.”
Red stared first at the girl, then at the fire. He was wondering in a vague sort of way just how much he had missed by living all his life within the confines of a city. He was to wonder this many times before this business of being kidnaped and carried to a deserted island was over.
“I wonder what that old loon is doing here?” the girl mused. “All his pals must have gone south by now. The gulls stay all winter. Some kinds of ducks, too, and the jays and the chickadees. It can’t be very lonely here even in winter. Wouldn’t it be thrilling if we had to stay here on and on?”
Red stared harder at the fire as he tried in vain to think what that would be like.
“You seem to know a lot about this island,” he blurted out quite suddenly. “How does it happen that kidnapers bring you to a place where you have been before? Seems a trifle mixed.”
“I’ve wondered about that.” Her big blue eyes were round and frank. “I think I’ve got it figured out. Do you believe in God?”
“Why, yes, I—I do. I’ve prayed about football sometimes; asked the One who gave me my body to help me keep it clean and fit; asked Him, too, to give me a clear brain and a sharp eye for every play.”