Cale kept his boat down among the willows, chained to a pole he had driven deep in the bed of the river. It was one of his treasures. He had fished from it up and down the stream; he had gone forth in it at daybreak for wild ducks and geese. Yes, Thane remembered the "skiff." Strange that no one else had thought of it. Strange that even Amos Vick was satisfied she could not have crossed the river except by the ferry. He wondered whether it was tied up in its accustomed place over yonder, or was it now on this side of the river? He felt a strange chill in his blood. He was nearing the library when Alix came out. If she saw him she gave no sign. She crossed the sidewalk threw the bridle rein over the horse's neck, and swung herself gracefully into the saddle. Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she rode off at a brisk canter in the direction of the ferry. He knew she was on her way to see Mrs. Vick. The R. F. D. postman making his rounds, came to Amos Vick's shortly after noon that day. He volunteered a bit of information. Rosabel had given him a letter when he stopped the day before. It was addressed to Caleb Vick. She asked him how long he thought it would take the letter to reach its destination. When he told her that it might be delivered to Cale early the next day, she thanked him and returned to the house. He thought at the time that she looked "kind of white around the gills." II Jim Bagley and his new "hired man," pursuing a suggestion made by the latter, went to the top of Quill's Window for a bird's-eye view of the river and the surrounding country. The sharp eyes of the Pinkerton man descried the rowboat under the willows along the opposite bank of the stream. Half an hour later, Bagley and several companions came upon the boat. On one of the seats lay Rosabel Vick's heavy coat and the black fur collar she was known to have worn when she left home. Under the seat in the stern was a small paper bundle. It contained a nightgown, a pair of black stockings, and several toilet articles. Across the river, several hundred yards above Quill's Window, a small gravelly "sand-bar" reached out into the stream. Here the practised eyes of Gilfillan found unmistakable indications of a recent landing. The prow of the boat, driven well out upon the bar, had left its mark. Also, there were two deep cuts in the sand where an oar had been used in pushing off. It was impossible to make out footprints in the loose, shifting gravel. Mr. Gilfillan pondered deeply.