hauled him off some place. I guess he's watchin' out for Ducane these days."
"They're going to Lobstick," said Dick. "We're wanting to be there first. You must come yourself."
Forsyth swore liberally.
"Pshaw! I guess they'd be apt to hit the trail some twelve hours before we could raise it. D'you know how far it aims to be up to Lobstick?"
"I imagine it is as many miles for them as for us. And there's a breeze making right now. Are you ready?"
"Why it is going to take us two days—likely three."
"I intend that it shall be less than that. Who has a dinghy? Who? Very well. Meet me on the beach, for it's important that you come too."
Forsyth was there within twenty minutes. He had a smart young constable with him, and he poured directions out at every step. Dick, superintending the stowing of water and provisions, turned to add his word also.
"Watch what time those two get off," he said. "And if they ask for me say I am drunk, or sleeping in. Take note of anything unusual you may see. And—Hinds, the 'Northern Light' won't go out till mid-day. Let no one know where we have gone. Say Forsyth is on patrol and I am drunk or sick—anything."
The night was blowing up dark and suggestive of thunder. Scattered white-caps showed here and there down the distance. It was a cross-wind, blowing in nasty, choppy puffs, and the powerful breed who helped Dick run the sail up predicted trouble very shortly.
"If it comes it comes," said Dick, and crouched down in the stern-sheets. " Don't be afraid to let her have all she can take, Honoré."
Honoré knew all that there was to know about a dinghy, and about a wind that bellied the sail and slapped it flat and endeavoured to unstep the mast all at once and the same moment. And they ran out into the swift-coming storm, with the combing of the wind about their ears and the growling of the thunder sending sullen echoes down the lake.
Dick had no conversation to give Forsyth as the boat tacked and swung and drove on her beam until the upper
