versation with them, she became for the first time
fully aware of how greatly he had changed from what he had been when he
had come to them six months before in Chicago. These gay, wealthy
loungers would have dismayed him then, and he would have been equally
dismayed by the luxury of the carefully appointed yacht; now he was not
thinking at all about what these people might think of him. In return,
they granted him consideration. It was not, she saw that they accepted
him as one of their own sort, or as some ordinary acquaintance of hers;
if they accounted for him to themselves at all, they must believe him
to be some officer employed upon her father's ships. He looked like
that--with his face darkened and reddened by the summer sun and in his
clothing like that of a ship's officer ashore. He had not weakened
under the disgrace which Benjamin Corvet had left to him, whatever that
might be; he had grown stronger facing it. A lump rose in her throat
as she realized that the lakes had been setting their seal upon him, as
upon the man whose strength and resourcefulness she loved.

"Have you worked on any of our boats?" she asked him, after luncheon
had been finished, and the anchor of the ship had been raised.

A queer expression came upon his face. "I've thought it best not to do
that, Miss Sherrill," he replied.

She did not know why the next moment she should think of Henry.

"Henry was going to bring us over in his yacht--the _Chippewa_," she
said. "But he was called away suddenly yesterday on business to St.
Ignace and used his boat to go over there."

"He's at Harbor Point, then."

"He got there a couple of nights ago and will be back again to-night or
to-morrow morning."

The yacht was pushing swiftly, smoothly, with hardly a hum from its
motors, north along the shore. He watched intently the rolling, wooded
hills and the ragged little bays and inlets. His work and his
investigatings had not brought him into the neighborhood before, but
she found that she did not have to name the places to him; he knew them
from the charts.

"Grand Traverse Light," he said to her as a white tower showed upon
their left. Then, leaving the shore, they pushed out across the wide
mouth of the larger bay toward Little Traverse. He grew more silent as
they approached it.

"It is up there, isn't it," he asked, pointing, "that they hear the
Drum?"

"Yes; how did you know the place?"

"I don't know it exactly; I want