"At home?" he asked quickly.

"At Bracken's," she finished; and if any of the pursuers had been near
enough he might have heard the unmistakable suggestion of a kiss.

"I feel better," he said, squaring his shoulders. "Now, let me think. We
must outwit these fellows, whoever they are. By George, I remember one
of them! That old fellow who bought the horse is with them. That's it!
The horse is mixed up in this, I'll bet my head." They sat upon the
ground for several minutes, he thinking deeply, she listening with her
pretty ears intent.

"I wonder if they've left anybody to guard our boat?" he said suddenly.
"Come on, Marjory; let's investigate! By George, it would be just like
them to leave it unprotected!"

Once more they were moving cautiously through the brush, headed for the
river. Mr. Jack Barnes, whoever he was and whatever his crime, was a
resourceful, clever young man. He had gauged the intelligence of the
pursuers correctly. When he peered through the brush along the river
bank he saw the skiff in the reeds below, just as they had left it.
There was the lunch basket, the wee bit of a steamer trunk with all its
labels, a parasol and a small handbag.

"Goody, goody!" Marjory cried like a happy child.

"Don't show yourself yet, dearie. I'll make sure. They may have an
ambuscade. Wait here for me."