for the sea. Another half-mile brought them to a
handkerchief-sized beach, much like that on the other side of
the swamp. where Gavin had found the hidden path. Here, on
mangrove-wood piles, was a short pier with a boathouse at its
far end.

"I keep my launch and my fishing-boats in there," explained
Milo. as he climbed out of the car. "If it wasn't for that
pesky swamp. I could have had this pier directly back of my
house, and saved a lot of distance."

"Why not cut a road through the swamp?" suggested Brice,
following him along the pier.

Again Standish gave vent to that great laugh of his--a laugh
outwardly jovial, but as hollow as a shell.

"Young man," said he. "if ever you try to cut your way
through an East Coast mangrove-swamp you'll find out just how
silly that question is. A swamp like that might as well be a
quick-sand, for all the chance a mortal has of traveling
through it."

Gavin made no reply. Again, he was visualizing the cleverly
engineered path from the beach-edge to Milo's lawn. And he
recalled Claire's unspoken plea that he say nothing to
Standish about his chance discovery of it. He remembered,
too, the night-song of the mocking bird from the direction of
that path, and the advent of Rodney Hade from it.