"So far, so good," declared Bailey. "Now what we want to do, is this. After Wayne has paid over the money and sits down on the bench on the pier, we get into the automobile, see, where this fellow Grimes and Louis will already be, and we reach out and put the kid down on the ground where Wayne can see her, but he'll not dare make a move toward her until our car gets out of sight. But we don't go with the car, see? We step right out the other door and through the bushes onto the boat. If Wayne has any police following him, they'll take after this car. When they overhaul it,--which they won't, for Louis knows his business--there won't be anyone in it that Wayne can identify. This fellow Grimes won't talk--I've got his grand all ready to slip him as we duck through the car--and Louis, when he does talk, will have a story that will pull him through anything. Now all we have to do is get the child and step on the gas on the way back." But even then Swazey was stepping on the gas in a manner that made their progress over the Grimes' private roadway decidedly precarious. As they neared the formidable gate they slowed down and honked fiercely for admittance. There was no response. Bailey muttered oaths and cursed Grimes for a fool. Swazey sent forth another powerful blast of the horn. Finally Bailey sprang out and rang the bell which swung above the gate. It clattered and clanged with a fury that told Grimes it would be dangerous to ignore its summons. "Hit's th' police," he told Maria, "but they won't find nawthin'. I've cleaned out th' loft. Now you'all keep yore mouths shet or yo' know whut'll happen. Reach me thet ax." Maria handed him the ax. Then he strode off, across the yard, and chopped open the gate. Bailey, annoyed by the delay and the necessity of making such a noise to announce their arrival was in no mood for listening to apologies or explanations even if Grimes had attempted to make any. But the latter's surprise upon seeing Bailey instead of the police so paralyzed his tongue that he could not have spoken had he tried. "The child--where is it?" demanded Bailey, after he had cursed Grimes roundly and called him all the unpleasant names he could think of at the moment. "Come on, speak up. We can't lose time. Where's the child?" Then Peter regained his voice. He smiled ingratiatingly. "Hit's all right," he drawled. "Thar hain't a mite o' evidence. I heered how things was a-goin', an' I 'lowed ter git hit outen th' way ter day but thet danged gal, Mollie, lit out airly this mornin' takin' th' Wayne young-un with her." He did not mention that she had also taken a dozen other children beyond his reach. What he said, however, was sufficiently startling. Bailey fairly shouted. His former oaths were as nothing. "Gone!" he exclaimed. "Where? When?" "Inter th' bog. This mornin' 'fore sun-up. They're prob'ly mired by now."