name hereabouts. Lives out across the Narrows somewheres. Used to
live here in Vancouver years ago but now he don't honor us much.
Queer old skate! They say he's got some good Indian things, though--
if it's them you're after?"

The professor ignored the question but pondered the information.

"I think you are right. It must be the same person," he said. "But
he certainly led me to expect--"

A chuckle from the boat-builder interrupted him. "Ah, he'd do that,
all right," grinned Mr. Johnston. "They do say he has a special gift
that way."

"Well, thank you very much anyway." The professor offered his hand
cordially. "And if we're going, we had better go."

"You'll be a tight fit in the launch," said Mr. Johnston. "Miss
Farr's down 'ere somewhere. I saw her pass."

"Miss Farr!" The professor's ungallant horror was all too patent. He
turned haunted eyes toward the second nail keg, now plainly visible
and unoccupied.

"Missy in boat. She waitee. No likee!" said the Chinaman, speaking
for the first time.

"But," began the professor, and then, seeing the appreciative grin
upon Mr. Johnston's speaking countenance, he continued blandly--
"Very well, let us not keep the lady waiting. Especially as she