Much as a bank teller detects instantly a counterfeit bill or coin, he picked his man. He was quick to feel the difference between a right-minded man who has fallen into wrong ways and the really wrong-minded man. His course tonight was a triumph. He had given his prisoner the means to lead his little party to destruction, but he knew perfectly that nothing of the sort would be done. More, the only man aboard who could prove in court that he had gone over that vague thing, the boundary line, was this same prisoner, who should, by all sensible thinking, be the last man to trust with such information; and yet he felt perfectly comfortable as he leaned out a little way and watched the foam slipping away from the bow. The launch went on toward the increasing shadows, plunged through the surf, and glided into the cove. “See anything?” whispered Beveridge. “Not a thing,” Smiley replied. “She isn't here, eh?” “No, neither of them.” “Neither of what?” “Neither the _Anne_ nor the _Estelle_, Spencer's schooner. Shall we go back outside?” “Yes.” “You speak to the engineer, then. This bell makes too much noise.” They backed cautiously around and returned through the surf to deep water. “Lie up a little way off the shore here,” said Beveridge; “we 'll cut them off if they try to get in.” For a moment nothing was said; then this from Smiley, “Do you mind my saying a word?” “No. What?” “It has just struck me--we are wasting time here.” “You think so?” “I know so.” “Why?” “It stands to reason that McGlory would expect to be chased, don't it?” “Of course.” “Well, then, he is not going to put right over here after he has taken off old Spencer, is he? It's almost like running back on his course--amounts to the same thing.” “But he is likely to come here, isn't he?” “I should think so.” “Well,” impatiently, “how else could he do it?” “Easily enough. He could go right on east from Spencer's place and make for Owen Channel, up near the head of Georgian Bay. That's at the other end of this island.” “Manitoulin Island? Is it as big as that?” “Yes, it lies all across this end of Lake Huron. If he went through Owen Channel, he could get around into the North Channel, and then down into Bayfield Sound and Lake Wolsey. Bayfield Sound, you see, pretty nearly cuts the island in halves. It is right opposite here, only a few miles overland. That would be a long way around, but it is the safe way. You see, I've been thinking--” “Well--what?” “Why, he would be likely to think just like I did, that when you had got up here you wouldn't be able to resist coming on across the line.” “You seem to know these routes pretty well for a man who has been to Spencer's only once.” “I saw it on the chart the other day. A man couldn't help figuring that out.” “What would you suggest doing?” “Putting for Spencer's, just as tight as your old stationary wash-tub can make it.” “But hold on, now. If you think they have got away from there long ago--”