?"

"She's just coming in," said the officer. "She ought to land her
passengers at the pier in about ten minutes."

"Then it's time to go down to meet her," said Charlie. "Come on, girls,
and you too, Holmes. You'll be needed down there. And I guess you'll
find it worth your while to come, too."

Holmes, protesting, had no alternative, and in sullen silence he was one
of the little group that now made its way toward the pier. She was just
being tied up as they arrived, and Silas Weeks, his face full of malign
triumph at the sight of Bessie and Zara, was the first to step ashore.

"Got yer, have I?" he said. He turned to a lanky, angular man who was at
his side. "There y'are, constable," he said. "There's yer parties--them
two girls there! Arrest them, will yer?"

"Not here, I won't," said the constable. "You didn't tell me it was to
come off here. This is government land--I ain't got no authority here."

"You keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open, Weeks," said
Jamieson, before the angry old farmer could say anything. Then he
stepped forward to greet a man and woman who had followed Weeks down the
gangplank.

"I'm glad you're here, Mrs. Richards, and you too, Mr. Richards," he
said. "I'm going to be able to keep my promise."

Holmes was staring at Mrs. Richards and her husband in astonishment.

"You here, Elizabeth?" he exclaimed. "And Henry, too? I didn't know you
were coming!"

"We decided to come quite unexpectedly, Morton," said the lady, quietly.
She was a woman of perhaps forty-two or three, tall and distinguished in
her appearance. But, like her husband, her face showed traces of
privations and hardship.

Behind them came a stiff, soldierly looking man, in a blue suit, and him
Jamieson greeted with a smile and handshake.

"There's your man, marshal," he said, pointing to Holmes. "I guess he
won't make any resistance."

And, while Mr. and Mrs. Richards stared in astonishment, and Weeks
turned purple, the marshal laid his hand on the merchant's shoulder, and
put him under arrest. Holmes was trapped at last.

"What does this mean?" Mrs. Richards asked, indignantly. "What are you
doing to my brother, Mr. Jamieson?"

"That's quite a long story, Mrs. Richards," he answered, easily. "And,
strange as it may seem, I'll have to answer it by asking you and your
husband some questions that may seem very personal. But I've made good
with you so far, and I can assure you that you will have no cause