“Hilda Dugan! Hilda Dugan!”

Frank repeated the name in a dazed way, as he sought the captain. That worthy met him.

“Needn’t bother to change,” he said. “You may keep the togs till yours are dry, young man. Leave them with Jim Popps. I’ll get ’em. You’re a nervy chap.”

Frank thanked the captain, and soon he was going ashore with his grip and his wet clothing done into a neat bundle. He looked back for a glimpse of Hilda, but she was not to be seen, and, although he lingered till the boat swung off and bore away up the lake, he saw nothing more of her.

But he could remember just how her warm, firm, shapely hand felt as it lay in his own, and he seemed to see her handsome face upturned to his, while her dark eyes looked straight into his own.

Frank gave himself a shake.

“What’s the matter with you?” he growled to himself. “Are you going to get broken up over this girl? Not much! Have a little sense, you chump!”

He found accommodations, and then set out to learn what he could about the man he had pursued to that wild region. He went straight to “The Store,” in front of which several men were loafing in the sunshine. The men gazed at him with great curiosity.

[133]

“Can some of you gentlemen tell me how to get from here to Blank Island?” he asked.

“Ye might have gone right up on the bo’t,” said one.

“I want to go up to-morrow afternoon.”

“What ye goin’ up thar fer?” grunted another man, suspiciously.

“Oh, business.”

“Business, hey? There hev people gone up thar on business that never got back. Better stay away, young man.”

“Who you goin’ to see?” asked a third.

“Miss Hilda Dugan,” answered Frank.

“Hum! Thought it couldn’t be Dugan hisself ye wanted ter see. Does he know ye’re comin’?”

Frank was growing restless under this questioning, and he rather sharply answered.

“I do not presume Mr. Dugan knows I am coming.”

“Then ye’d best keep erway. Give us a chaw of terbacker, Joe.”

“Why don’t ye buy some terbacker of yer own?” grumbled Joe, as he fished down into a pocket and drew out a plug. “You never hev any.”

“Times is so darn hard I can’t raise money enough fer rum an’ terbacker this year. Ef we warn’t right on ‘the line,’ I wouldn’t git more’n two ur three drinks a day.”

For the moment Frank seemed ignored, but he spoke up sharply:

“I want to hire a man to take me to Blank Island to-morrow[134] afternoon, and I will pay well for it. Who will take the job?”

The men looked doubtfully at each other, and one of them said:

“I don’t know anybody har as keers to kerry yer up to Dugan’s Islan’, young feller.”

“But don’t you know of anybody in the town who will do it?” asked Frank, desperately.

“It’s mighty doubtful if ye kin find anybody,” was the answer.

“I don’t understand it!” exclaimed Merry. “I saw several sailboats down at the landing, and——”

“Oh, thar are plenty of them har, but folks have been warned ter keep erway from Dugan’s, and they know better’n ter go agin’ any warnin’ frum him, you bet!”

The others nodded and grunted, wagging their jaws over the tobacco they were industriously chewing.

“It’s strange!” said Frank.

“If you’ll take my advice, young feller,” said an old man with one eye that squinted, while the other stared, “you’ll keep clear of Dugan’s.”

Again there was more nodding and grunting.

“Why?” asked Frank.

“Waal, ter be plain with yer, Dugan don’t think much of the young fellers what git ter runnin’ arter his gal. He’s nigh kilt several on’ em.”

“That’s so,” said some of the others.

“Thar was that summer dude that kem up hyer from Bangor last y’ar,” the old man with the squint eye went on. “Why, Dugan ketched him, tied him ter a tree, an’[135] nigh beat him ter death with birch withes. Ther feller was sick fer two month arter that.”

“An’ then there was that Vanceborough chap,” said another. “The gal uster meet him till Dugan got onter it. When he found it aout, he laid for ’em, an’ ketched ’em. He broke one of the feller’s arms with a club an’ laid his head open. That cooked that feller, you bet!”

“You bet!” echoed the others.

“So you’d better go back an’ let Dugan’s gal alone,” advised the squint-eyed man.

By this time Frank’s face was crimson, but he bit his lips and held his temper, speaking coolly, even smiling:

“That is all right, gentlemen; but it is purely a business matter between me and Miss Dugan. I don’t care what happened to those other chaps, I am going up to Blank Island to-morrow. If I can’t get anyone to take me there, I’ll hire a boat and go alone. Now, who owns a good sailboat that I can get?”

“I own one,” admitted the squint-eyed man; “but I don’t want ter take chances of lettin’ her to you.”

“I’ll pay. I will give you ten dollars for the use of your boat to-morrow afternoon, providing she is satisfactory.”