She broke off abruptly, saying later, "Mr. Harcourt, I--I cannot explain, but will you not trust me that it is all right?" "You have not set me a good example in trust," he said, looking down into her troubled eyes, "but certainly there has been nothing to shake my confidence in you--except in your judgment. If the time ever comes that I can help you, you know where to find me." She put out her hand and he held it for a moment in his. Then looking at his watch he said, "I think it is time we are getting back." He whistled to Philip who was still proudly walking ahead, and when he came back took him by the hand and relieved the situation by devoting himself entirely to the child, showing him all manner of wonderful things that the woods contained. He did not speak to Margaret again until they were in the bay path, and then it was only to call her attention to the different kinds of evergreens growing along the road, and to show her how to identify them. Over the broiled whitefish at breakfast they discussed their walk and plans for the day. Harcourt was his old irrepressible self, and Margaret's equilibrium was restored though he noticed that her buoyancy of the early morning was gone. He could not help wondering many times through the day what the trouble was that so darkened her life, and who the one person was who could help her. Toward the middle of the afternoon, two days later, they all sat on the piazza talking intermittently. It seemed very pleasant to sit idly watching the changing lights on the water, and listening to the sound of the wind blowing where it listed. Around them was the faint hum of the insect world that somehow tells us summer is nearly gone. One by one they had declined the bay trip that Mr. Harcourt had proposed. He turned his attention then to an acorn basket he was carving for Philip, looking up after a while to remark, "By the way, I ran across that man Smeltzer up at the station a little while ago. Strange that he should come to a place like this for his vacation, isn't it? You'd think now--" "Did you talk with him?" interrupted Mrs. Pennybacker, looking startled. "Yes. I had some curiosity to see if he would remember me.... Oh, yes, perfectly." "Is he registered here?" It occurred to Harcourt that Mrs. Pennybacker was taking an unusual interest in Smeltzer. "Must be, I guess. This is the only hotel on the grounds. He says he has left Washington. I rather guess from something he said that he is with the Pinkertons." Margaret had risen hastily and gone to the end of the porch. "Who are the Pinkertons?" asked Bess. CHAPTER XVIII THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT "Where is Philip?" Margaret put the question in a low, tense voice to Mrs. Pennybacker who had followed her. "He was down there at the spring just a moment ago."