indicated the end of the island, and Andrew nodded.
"It would drift to leeward. I'll go and look for it."
As he swung the skiff round it struck him that she had kept curiously still. Her pose was somewhat unusual, for she sat with her feet drawn up beneath her skirt, and skirts, as he remembered, were cut decidedly short. He rowed away and presently saw the canoe some distance off. On running alongside, he noticed a pair of light stockings in the bottom, and laughed as the reason for the girl's attitude became apparent. Pulling back with the canoe astern, he loosed the light craft and drove it toward the beach with a vigorous push.
"Thank you," said the girl, and he tactfully rowed away.
He had not gone far when he heard a hail and saw her standing on the point, waving her hand. For a moment or two he hesitated. As the canoe had grounded within her reach, he could not see what she wanted; and, in view of the discovery he had made, he had imagined that she would have been glad to get rid of him. Still, she had called him and he pulled back.
"Can I be of any further assistance?" he asked, noticing with some relief that she now had her shoes on.
"Yes," she said frankly. "I am marooned here; there's no paddle in the canoe."
"No paddle? But how could it have fallen out?"
"I don't know; and it doesn't seem an important point. Perhaps the canoe rocked, and it overbalanced."
"I could tow you to the Landing," Andrew suggested.
His manner was formally correct and she felt half amused. This young man was obviously not addicted to indiscriminate gallantry.
"I don't want to go to the Landing, and the canoe would tow easier with no one on board. Your skiff should carry two."
He ran the craft in, made fast the canoe, and then held out his hand. When she was seated, he pushed off.
"Where shall I take you?" he asked gravely.
"To the large island yonder – the Island of Pines," she said, indicating it; and he knew that this was Geraldine Frobisher, whom Mappin had discussed. Andrew admitted that his description of her was warranted.
"You have been unlucky," he remarked.
"I've been careless and have had to pay for it. We got breakfast early and I've missed my lunch."
"It's nearly three o'clock," said Andrew, pulling faster. "But how is it no one came to look for you?"
"My aunt goes to sleep in the afternoon; my father had some business at the Landing – if he had been at home it would have taken him some time to find me. He would have searched the nearer islands first, systematically and in rotation." She smiled. "That's the kind of man he is. I suppose you have guessed who I am?"
"Miss Frobisher?"
"And you're Mr. Allinson. It wasn't hard to identify you. Perhaps you know that your doings are a source of interest to the people at the Landing."
"I can't see why that should be so."
"For one thing, they seem to think you are up against what they call 'a tough proposition'."
Andrew's face grew thoughtful. Since the collapse of the heading, he had spent a fortnight in determined physical toil, as his scarred hands and broken nails testified. It had been a time of stress and anxiety, and during it he had realized that the mine would be a costly one to work. The ore must carry a high percentage of metal if it were to pay for extraction.
"I'm afraid that's true," he said.
"Then you won't get much leisure for hunting and fishing?"
Andrew laughed.
"After all, those were not my objects in coming out, though you're not the only person who seems to have concluded that they were."
"I have no opinion on the matter," Geraldine declared. "But at the Landing you are supposed to be more of a sportsman than a miner – isn't it flattering to feel that people are talking about you? Then you are really working at the mine?"
"So far, I've saved the Company about two dollars and a-half a day."
"But isn't your voice in controlling things worth more than that?"
"No," Andrew replied; "I'm afraid it isn't."
"Then you don't know much about mining?"
"I believe," Andrew answered dryly, "I know a little more than I did."
Geraldine was pleased with him. The man was humorously modest, but he looked capable and resolute.
"Well," she said, "it can't be easy work; though one understands that getting the ore out is not always the greatest difficulty."
"It's hard enough when the roof comes down, and the props crush up, and the water breaks in. Still, I believe you're right."
"I know something about these matters," she said, and then surprised him by a sudden turn of the subject. "There's one man you can trust. I mean Jake Carnally."
"Do you know him?"
"He built our boat pier and cleared the bush to make our lawn. We often made him talk to us; and I know my father, who's a good judge, thought a good deal of him."
"Jake," said Andrew cautiously, "rather puzzles me: I can get so little out of him, though I like the man. As you seem to know the people I have to deal with, is there anybody else whose trustworthiness you would vouch for?"
Geraldine's face hardened.
"No, I don't know of anybody else; but you will soon be able to form your own opinion."
This struck Andrew as significant, because she must have heard of his connection with Mappin, who visited the house. Just then he caught sight of a boat that swung around the end of an island and headed toward them with bows buried in foam.
"A gasoline launch," he said. "She's traveling very fast."
"It's ours," explained Geraldine. "My father must have got back from the Landing and has come to look for me."
The launch was soon abreast of them and stopped near the skiff. A man of middle age, in light clothes, held the tiller and looked at Geraldine inquiringly.
"I suppose you have been dreadfully worried," she said with a smile at him. "I was cast away on a desolate island when the canoe went adrift, and should have been there still, only that Mr. Allinson came to my rescue." She turned to Andrew. "My father, Henry T. Frobisher."
Andrew noticed that Frobisher glanced at him keenly when he heard his name, but he started the engine and ran the launch alongside.
"Come on board and see our island," he said. "I'll take you back to the Landing afterward."
Andrew followed Miss Frobisher into the craft and made the skiff and canoe fast astern, and they set off and presently reached a short pier which ran out into still, clear water. A lawn stretched down to the shore, bordered with flowers, and at the end of it a wooden house stood against a background of somber pines. A veranda ran across the front, the rows of slender columns braced by graceful arches; above were green-shuttered windows, steep roofs, and gables. Moldings, scrolls
