ence, that I was
here with you. Why should he make no attempt to take me with him? Why
should he steal our boat and run away?"

I shook my head, my glance shifting toward the negro, who stood just
behind us, his mouth wide open, evidently smitten speechless.

"One theory is as good as another," I said, "and mine so far have all
been wrong. What do you make of it, Sam?"

"Who, sah? Me, sah?"

"Yes, take a guess at this."

"'Pears like," he said, deliberately, rubbing his ear with one hand,
"as how it mought hav' happen'd dis yere way, sah. Ah ain't a' sayin'
it wus, it mought be. Maybe Massa Kirby nebber got no sight ob us
'tall, an' wus afeerd fer ter stay. He just know'd a party wus
yere--likely 'nough sum Black Abolitionists, who'd be huntin' him if he
didn't cl'ar out, just so soon as dey foun' dat Amos Shrunk wus ded.
Her' wus his chance, an' he done took it."

"Yet he would surely recognize the boat?"

"Yas, sah; Ah reckon he wud, sah. Dat's de truth, whut stumps me. Dat
white man am certenly full o' tricks. Ah sure wish Ah know'd just whar
he wus now. Ah'd certenly feel a heap easier if Ah did." He bent
suddenly forward, his glance at the edge of the log. "Dey ain't took
but just de one boat, sah, fer de odder am shoved under dar out'r
sight."

As I stooped further over I saw that this was true, the small rowboat,
with the oars undisturbed in its bottom, had been pressed in beneath
the concealment of the log wharf, almost completely hidden from above,
yet to all appearances uninjured. The very fact that it should have
been thus left only added to the mystery of the affair. If it had been
Kirby's deliberate purpose to leave us there stranded ashore, why had
he failed to crush in the boat's planking with a rock? Could the
leaving of the craft in fit condition for our use be part of some
carefully conceived plan; a bait to draw us into some set trap? Or did
it occur merely as an incident of their hurried night? These were
unanswerable questions, yet the mere knowledge that the boat was
actually there and in navigable condition, promised us an opportunity
to escape. While hope remained, however vague, it was not my nature to
despair. Whether accident or design had been the cause, made no
odds--I was willing to match my wits against Kirby and endeavor to win.
And I must deal with facts, just as they were.

"It is my guess," I said, "that their only thought was to get away
before the crim