"He's all right," said Captain White, generously. "Tell him I ain't a liar by profession." "Which is more than he is," said the chief, angrily pouring out his accumulated vials of wrath on the stranger, "considering all the names he called me half an hour ago." "And here's my gold watch, worth one hundred and fifty dollars," continued Captain White, "seals and chain, if the absentee, whom I guess we'll not name, ain't forthcoming within twenty-four hours." "He's a sick man, he may die," sputtered H. Robinson. "Sick man--ho, ho! I like that," and Chief Gordon, remembering the vigorous old woman at the station, began to laugh uproariously, but checked himself at the sight of Chelda's motionless figure, as she stood at one of the windows with her back to them. "All right; go out on the Bay," said Captain White, restoring his watch to his pocket. "Go with him, chief. You'll find him easy among the hundreds of yachts from the cottages and the hotels, and he'll come back while you're gone, and I'll help him give you the slip." H. Robinson was on the horns of a dilemma. He squirmed uneasily, but finally decided to trust Captain White. "Done," he muttered. "But you've got to stay with me, you local man." "All right," said the chief, laconically. "And as two able-bodied men might, with a little help, manage to grip one sick fellow, I guess you'll send that patrolman back to the city hall," said Captain White. The chief went outside, and Captain White addressed the silent figure at the window. "Miss Chelda, we want to have as little fuss about this thing as possible. Will you give orders to have some fishing-rods for us to thrash the river, while we wait for the return of that party?" "Yes," she said, walking quickly past them, "and I will have lunch served here for you at once." There was a suspicious readiness in the young lady's manner, and H. Robinson restlessly addressed his companion. "I guess she's told you what a fine bird your friend Lancaster is?" "Right you are." "It's an offence to interfere, obstruct, or oppose an officer--" "Skip that," interposed Captain White. "You've got sense enough to know that the mistress of this place is an exception to all rules, and she's wrapped up in Lancaster's daughter." "So, so,--I know it." "And ain't you always coming to places in your practice or profession, or whatever you call your dirty work, when a few bank-bills spread out will cover a lot of iniquity that poverty would expose?" "You bet I do, but this ain't a job for buying off." "Who said it was? You get through it, though, without so much quacking, and you'll find it will be worth your while." The detective went for a stroll through the hall. The door of the music-room was closed. If he could have looked inside, he would have seen the half-fainting daughter of the man he was in search of, lying on one of the green velvet benches.