out his pipe and stowed it away and moved farther westward until he found a suitable camping-place behind a wooded hill.  Here he made a fire, built a little shelter of poles and spruce branches, and rested at his ease.  He thought of Flora Lockhart.  Her sea-eyes and red lips were as clear and bright as a picture in his brain.  Her wonderful, bell-like voice rang in his ears like fairy music.  The spell of her was like a ravishing fire in his heart.

Suddenly the skipper sprang to his feet and slapped a hand on his thigh.  He had remembered the necklace for the first time for many days, and with the memory had flashed the thought that with it to offer he would have no difficulty in proving his wealth to the lady and winning her heart.  Those white diamonds and red rubies were surely just the things a great lady from up-along would appreciate.  Could a king on his throne make her a finer gift?  He doubted it.  The sight of that necklace would open her eyes and melt her heart to the real worth and greatness of the skipper of Chance Along.  Poor Skipper Nolan!  But after all, he was little more than a savage.  Of the hearts of women—­even of the women of Chance Along—­he was as ignorant as a spotted harbor-seal.  He knew no more of Mary Kavanagh’s heart than of Flora Lockhart’s, but even a savage may win a heart in ignorance, and even a savage may learn!

With a great oath the skipper vowed that he would find that necklace; but not to sell for gold, as his old intention had been, but to sell for the possession of the girl from up-along.  It seemed an easy thing to do.  Foxey Jack Quinn could not have gone very far away from the harbor in that “flurry.”  Perhaps he had turned back and inland, searching blindly for shelter, and lay even now somewhere near this fire?  It struck the skipper as a great idea.  He would have three clear days to give to the quest of the body of Jack Quinn without arousing the curiosity of the harbor.  Three days, as nearly as he could reckon, was the shortest time in which a man could make the journey to Witless Bay and back.  As he could not show himself in Chance Along within that time without raising doubts as to the safe delivery of the letter, he was free to devote the time to the recovery of the necklace.  It was a grand arrangement altogether.  Of course he would keep covertly in touch with the harbor, in case of another panic of superstition; and of course he would find the corpse of Jack Quinn with the precious necklace in its pocket.

CHAPTER XII

DICK LYNCH GOES ON THE WAR-PATH