to bring us ashore."

"That's quite all right," he answered casually. "Why should I be
offended? When a roughneck does something for you, it's proper to hand
him some of your loose change. Perfectly natural."

"But you aren't anything of the sort," she said frankly. "I feel sure
you resent being tipped for an act of courtesy. It was very thoughtless
of papa."

"Some people are so used to greasing their way with money that they'll
hand St. Peter a ten-dollar bill when they pass the heavenly gates," he
observed. "But it really doesn't matter. Tell me something. Whose house
is that, and how long has it been there?"

"Ours," she answered. "Two years. We stay here a good deal in the
summer."

"Ours, I daresay, means Horace A. Gower," he remarked. "Pardon my
curiosity, but you see I used to know this place rather well. I've been
away for some time. Things seem to have changed a bit."

"You're just back from overseas?" she asked quickly.

He nodded. She looked at him with livelier interest.

"I'm no wounded hero," he forestalled the inevitable question. "I merely
happened to get a splinter of wood in one eye, so I have leave until it
gets well."

"If you are merely on leave, why are you not in uniform?" she asked
quickly, in a puzzled tone.

"I am," he replied shortly. "Only it is covered up with overalls and
mackinaw. Well, I must be off. Good-by, Miss Gower."

He pushed his boat off the beach, rowed to the opposite side of the bay,
and hauled the small craft up over a log. Then he took his bag in hand
and climbed the rise that lifted to the backbone of Point Old. Halfway
up he turned to look briefly backward over beach and yacht and house, up
the veranda steps of which the girl in the blue sweater was now
climbing.

"It's queer," he muttered.

He went on. In another minute he was on the ridge. The Gulf opened out,
a dead dull gray. The skies were hidden behind drab clouds. The air was
clammy, cold, hushed, as if the god of storms were gathering his breath
for a great effort.

And Jack MacRae himself, when he topped the height which gave clear
vision for many miles of shore and sea, drew a deep breath and halted
for a long look at many familiar things.

He had been gone nearly four years. It seemed to him but yesterday that
he left. The picture was unchanged,--save for that white cottage in its
square of green. He stared at that with a doubtful expression, then his
uncovered eye came back to the long sweep