* * * * * * * *
When Jeanne once more reached the lodge dock where the Ship of Joy was tied, a crowd of people from the cottages had gathered about Bihari and his band. She grasped the sleeve of a tall young man to say in a low, agitated tone, “Do you know what schooner that is?”
“Schooner?” He smiled down at her.
“Yes, the one by that other dock. Over—why!” she exclaimed, “it is gone! It was a black schooner. But now it is not there.”
The tall young man looked at her in a manner that seemed to say, “You’ve been seeing things.” This embarrassed her, so she lost herself in the crowd.
But not for long. One moment, and a pleasing voice was saying in her ear, “And are you the golden-haired gypsy who will dance with the bear tonight?”
CHAPTER XIII
THE HEAD HUNTER
When the searchlight from the water had been switched off, Florence saw the dark gray power boat approaching the camping ground.
“Greta,” she groaned, “we should have gone up the ridge at once! There’s no peace or privacy anywhere!”
As the boat came nearer they read in large letters across the prow one word, “CONSERVATION.”