"Why, it's only Mona," cried Ruby, tugging at Danny's oil-skins.
Mona crossed the road, and Danny ventured to lift his eyes to the level of her neck. Then she asked about the fishing. Danny answered in monosyllables. She colored slightly, and spoke of Christian being in the boat. "Strange, wasn't it?"
"Seems to me," answered Danny, "that there's somethin' afoot between Uncle Bill and the young masther."
Mona's curiosity was aroused by the reply, and she probed Danny with searching questions. Then he told her of the conversation of the deck that morning. She perceived that mischief was brewing. Yet Danny could give her nothing that served as a clew. If only some one of sharper wit could overhear such a conversation, then perhaps the mischief might be prevented. Suddenly Mona conceived a daring idea, which was partly suggested by the sight of and old disused barn that stood in a field close at hand.
"Everybody is talking of some supper to-night to finish the season. Will Christian be there?"
"I heard him say so," said Danny.
"And your uncle, Bill Kisseck?"
"Aw, 'deed, for sure. He's allis where there's guzzlin'."
"Could you lend me your oil-skins, Danny?"
Danny looked puzzled. Mona smiled in his troubled face. "Do, that's a good Danny," she said, taking his big rough hand. Danny drew it away.
"Yes," he said, looking vacantly over the sea.
Then they arranged that the oil-skins and cap with a
