t--for I had to keep the
girls busy; but you did have trouble of some sort?"

"Nothing of the slightest consequence," the Governor answered. "We tried
to catch Carey but he was too quick for us. But we did pick up a friend
of his--the gentleman you see giving an exhibition of haughty disdain
out there on the tug. Keep everybody well under cover tonight and don't
be alarmed by anything you hear. We'll soon be through with this
business."

"Who's that funny little man on the tug? He seems anxious to attract
attention!"

Eliphalet Congdon was engaged in an argument with the detective, who,
being helpless, was obliged to endure a tirade the old gentleman was
delivering to the accompaniment of an occasional prod of the inevitable
umbrella.

"That," said the Governor, "is Edith Congdon's paternal grandfather; an
estimable person fallen upon evil times."

"You don't mean Mr. Eliphalet Congdon!"

"Most emphatically I do."

"And have he and his son settled their differences?"

"Not so you would notice it! But they'll be loving each other when I get
through with them."

"Do you know," said the girl, looking wonderingly into the Governor's
eyes, "I don't suppose I could ever learn to know when you're fooling
and when you're not."

"After we're married I shall never attempt to fool you. By the way," he
added hastily as she frowned and shrugged her shoulders, "when does the
camp close?"

"August twenty, if Mr. Carey doesn't close it sooner."

"The date shall stand without reference to Carey's wishes, intentions or
acts. Please write your father to be here on that last day and bring his
episcopal robes with him. And by the way, you spoke of your
embarrassments about mail. We'll send to the Calderville post-office for
all the Heart o' Dreams mail; a boat will deliver it tonight and pick up
the camp mail bag. Have you anything to add, Archie?"

"You might say to Isabel," said Archie slowly, "that August twenty
strikes me as the happiest possible date for our wedding."

"You two talk of weddings as though we were not in the midst of battle,
murder and sudden death!"

She folded her arms and regarded them with an odd little smile, half
wistful, half questioning, playing about her lips. The tug was drawing
away from the wharf. Perky sat on the rail placidly sucking an orange, a
noble picture of an unrepentant sinner. From the woods floated the far,
faint cries and light-hearted laughter of the camp youngsters at play.