"I won't stand for a spy!" he growled. "And be arrested?" "No," he assured her, grimly. "It may be as you suspect, but you needn't fear that I'll ever go to jail for assaulting one of Willis Marsh's helpers." She glanced up quickly, as if detecting a double meaning in his words; then, at the smouldering fires she beheld, observed, in a gentler tone: "You care a great deal for Miss Wayland, don't you?" His only answer was a deep breath and a slow turning of the head, but once she had seen the look in his eyes she needed no other. She could only say: "I hope she is worthy of all she is causing you to suffer, Boyd, so few of us are." She did not speak again, but in her heart was a great heaviness. They reached the dock and lost sight of the spy, only to have him reappear soon after the boat cleared, and while neither spoke of it, they felt his presence during the whole trip. Before them Rainier lifted its majestic, snow-crowned head high into the heavens, its serrated slopes softened by a purple haze, its soaring crest limned in blazing glory by the sun. The bay beneath them was like a huge silver shield, flat-rolled and glittering, inlaid with master cunning between wooded hills that swept away into mysterious distances, there to rise skyward in an ever-changing, ever-charming confusion. It reflected fairy-like islands, overgrown till they bowed to their mirrored likenesses. Now a smiling inlet opened up a perspective of golden sand and whispering shingle; again a frowning bluff slipped past, lost in lonely contemplation of its own inverted image. The day was gorgeous, inspiring. Their course lay through an enchanted region, so suggestive of splendid possibilities that Boyd was constrained to observe: "You know, if the Pilgrim Fathers had landed here in the first place, New England would never have been discovered," a remark at which Cherry nodded in complete agreement. At Tacoma Boyd left her, to go about his business, but joined her later at lunch, with the joyful announcement: "I've had better luck, this time. They said there would be no difficulty whatever in handling the matter, and they are to let me know definitely to-morrow." "Did Hawkshaw hound you to the bank?" she inquired. "I rather think so." "Then to-morrow will tell the tale." "You mean the bank will turn me down?" "Yes, if I've sized up the situation correctly. I dare say these banks are as cautious as those in Seattle, and a few words over the telephone would do the trick." "I'm inclined to give that shadow a little personal attention," the young man mused; but when she questioned him, he only smiled and assured her of his caution.