been more surprised than ever at Eben's silent and
strange manner, especially when he had found him at daybreak at the bow
of the boat. He could get nothing from the boy, and in disgust he had
left him and ate his breakfast alone. He believed that his son was
deeply in love with Jess Randall, and that the presence of John Hampton
was the cause of his depression. He imagined that it was but a
temporary affection, and nothing would come of it, until he heard of
what had happened to the girl. Then a great fear forced itself upon
his mind. He banished it at first as improbable. But the more he
thought of it, and the more he considered Eben's strange manner, the
more he was led to the painful conclusion that his son was the one who
had thrown the stone through the window. He was well aware of Eben's
impulsive nature, and the extent to which he would go when roused to
anger. He overheard two men talking about the affair.

"I'd like to lay my hands on the skunk who threw that stone," declared
one, "I'd show him a thing or two. The idea of hitting such a girl as
that, an' her watching by Bill."

"Is she badly hurt, d'ye think?" the other asked. "Can't say. Mrs.
Dobbins said she was able to sit up in the car when young Hampton took
her away."

"Where did he take her to?"

"To the hospital, I guess. But maybe he took her to his own home. His
mother lives down the river somewhere, so I understand."

The captain breathed more freely when he learned that the girl was able
to travel in the car. At first he feared that she had been so badly
injured that she might die. Then the guilty one would surely be found,
and if it proved to be his own son how terrible it would be. Even now
should suspicion rest upon Eben the quarrymen might prove very
troublesome. He, therefore, decided to get away as soon as possible.
He did not wish to shield his son if he were in the wrong. But he
wanted him to receive a fair trial, if the matter went that far, and
not have him dealt with by a number of excited men who might let their
passions get the upper hand.

Shortly after noon the "Eb and Flo" slipped from her wharf, and headed
downstream. The tide was fair, and the light breeze was favourable for
a long tack out of the narrow channel into the main river below Spoon
Island. The captain was at the wheel, with Eben by his side, ready for
any orders which might be given. Very few words had passed between
father and son during t