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"Why, Ma," he cried, in amazement, "you don't mean to say he's gone?" "Teacher," he said. "She's gotta be told about this. You know how she always hoped——" "What an awful picture!" cried Miss Proudfoot..
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When they were within ten minutes' walk of Old Harbour House, they met Mr Adams, who was an agent for a gentleman who lived in London, and who owned a great deal of property in the neighbourhood of Old Harbour Town. Half an hour later he came out upon the lake shore. Quickly he scraped together a pile of drift wood. He applied a match to it and as fire leaped up stood frowning across the water. Then, as an answering light flashed from some distance out in the lake, he sighed in relief and seating himself on the sand lit his pipe. After a time the sound of oars fell on his ears. A boat scraped on the beach. Two men stepped from it and approached the fire. "If I had only listened to you, Jack, we wouldn't have lost that whisky," he said. "I was dead sure nobody would go near that place. And at that we didn't find what we did the job to get, did we? It'll be just our luck to have that will turn up in time to cook our goose, yet." "Fell out o' a tree," he managed to say. "Struck my head on a limb.".
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