“May I tell you that you are the bravest, cleverest, sweetest girl in all the world?” “No! You mustn’t say things like that to me.” “But can’t you see that I love you?” “I see that you are dripping wet.” She swiftly rowed to his harbor and rested on her oars. “Can you dress yourself? Shall I send father over?” “Don’t even inform him, please. Do you want me to tell you about Gratia?” “I don’t care a snap about Gratia.” Marvin shivered till his teeth chattered and the boat shook. “But—but—she refused me. She didn’t want to tie my necktie.” Jean burst into a peal of laughter and sprang from the dory. In two minutes she had a fire blazing before his tent. In another minute she had left the island, carrying his bass. Chapter 40. Zirconium Over the savory chowder Marvin was saucily told that since he seemed to be so deeply interested in food he should have a hot beefsteak for his supper. He replied that he would eat beefsteak if set before him, but that he could not be a party to smuggling beefsteak, and that on no account would he join them on their Canadian ride. So when at two o’clock he was finally left alone with the dog, he was free to inspect the empty storeroom all he pleased. He made out a list of things that in his opinion she needed, being reasonably sure that she would not smuggle enough to last two days. Having done so, he set out to find an Indian to play the part of Santa Claus. He rowed up to the pier, left his skiff there, and embarked in the Kittiwake. Beside him sat Agricola, erect and alert. Soon he overhauled a sail stained red with hemlock bark, but discovered that it contained only a swarthy woman with wild strawberries. A woman would hardly do for his philanthropic purpose, and so he ran on till he was abreast of Keego. Now Keego was his second destined prize. He was going to buy Keego when he got round to it and doubtless his father would in time sell it to somebody as a coaling station. It was not pure silica but Laurentian granite, lying for the moment in the afternoon sun like so much red jacinth. From its little citadel the rains of countless years had washed down the granite stuff, doubtless with a good deal of zircon in it, and though the west side was rocky, the south and east were composed of coarse sand. He rounded the curling southern tip where the deep water lay like green jargoon above golden pebbles, and was surprised to see a sailboat lying close to shore. He drew alongside and perceived within it a tall Indian, dead drunk. He studied the sleeper’s face. It seemed familiar, and he concluded it was like the countenance on the recent nickel coins. This man might do. He would wait a while and see if this remnant of ruined grandeur waked up.