Godfrey drew a long breath of relief. Ever since he took up his abode
on the island he had been torturing himself with the belief that the
robbery of which he was guilty was the talk of the settlement, and
that he would be arrested for at if he should ever show himself at
the landing again. He breathed much easier to know that his fears on
this score were groundless.

"Hear anything else, Dannie?" asked Godfrey, and his voice was so
cheerful and animated that the boy looked at him in amazement.
"What's Dave an' the ole woman doin'?"

"That thar Dave is goin' to git rich, dog-gone it," replied Dan, in
great disgust. "He got a letter from some feller up North this
mornin' tellin' him if he would trap fifty dozen live quail fur him,
he'd pay him so't he could make three dollars a dozen on 'em. I seed
Don give him the letter, an' I heard 'em a talkin' and a laughin'
about it."

"That's what makes me 'spise them Gordons so," said Godfrey, slapping
the side of the canoe with his open hand. "They're all the time a
boostin' Dave, an' me and you could starve fur all they keer. Now
jump out, an' we'll go up to my house an' talk about it. We'll leave
the boat here, so't it will be handy when you want to go back."

As Godfrey spoke the bow of the canoe ran deep into the soft mud
which formed the beach on that side of the island, and the father and
son sprang out. Godfrey led the way along a narrow, winding path
which ran through the cane, and after a few minutes walking ushered
Dan into an open space in the centre of the island. Here stood the
little bark lean-to that he called his house. The cane had been