the train. One lifeboat and perhaps two had been seen by a
farmer who had been on the ice to the south of Beaver; the second boat
had been far to the south and west of the first one; tugs were cruising
there now; it had been many hours, however, after the farmer had seen
the boats before he had been able to get word to the town at the north
end of the island--St. James--so that the news could be cabled to the
mainland. Fishermen and seamen, therefore, regarded it as more likely,
from the direction and violence of the gale, that the boats, if they
continued to float, would be drifted upon the mainland than that they
would be found by the tugs.

Constance asked after her father. Mr. Sherrill and Mr. Spearman, the
operator told her, had been in communication that morning; Mr. Sherrill
had not come to Petoskey; he had taken charge of the watch along the
shore at its north end. It was possible that the boats might drift in
there; but men of experience considered it more probable that the boats
would drift in farther south where Mr. Spearman was in charge.

Constance crossed the frozen edges of the bay by sledge to Harbor
Point. The driver mentioned Henry with admiration and with pride in
his acquaintance with him; it brought vividly to her the recollection
that Henry's rise in life was a matter of personal congratulation to
these people as lending luster to the neighborhood and to themselves.
Henry's influence here was far greater than her own or her father's; if
she were to move against Henry or show him distrust, she must work
alone; she could enlist no aid from these.

And her distrust now had deepened to terrible dread. She had not been
able before this to form any definite idea of how Henry could threaten
Alan and Uncle Benny; she had imagined only vague interference and
obstruction of the search for them; she had not foreseen that he could
so readily assume charge of the search and direct, or misdirect, it.

At the Point she discharged the sledge and went on foot to the house of
the caretaker who had charge of the Sherrill cottage during the winter.
Getting the keys from him, she let herself into the house. The
electric light had been cut off, and the house was darkened by
shutters, but she found a lamp and lit it. Going to her room, she
unpacked a heavy sweater and woolen cap and short fur coat--winter
things which were left there against use when they opened the house
sometimes out of season--and put them