“I believe he’s still here,” she thought. “Perhaps back there somewhere in the dark just now.” The thought gave her a sudden turn. “But why should I care?” she whispered almost fiercely, “Why should he wish to break us? ‘Break you’—yes, those were his very words.” Dave had said they were broke. That was not quite true. They were paying expenses. That was something. But if someone robbed them of their few passengers? What then?

“We’d have to leave the island,” she thought in sudden consternation.

Slipping away from the main dock, the Wanderer moved down the moonlit harbor to find a berth close to the brightly lighted lodge.

After a hasty meal of boiled potatoes and trout fried in deep fat, topped off with coffee and apple pie, Florence felt much better.

The little party went a. . . Read More