"There's more to it," went on the old man. "The day after Nate Duncan disappeared detectives came here looking for him."
Blake started. There was more to the story than he had suspected. He looked at Mr. Stanton, and glanced out of the window to where Joe still sat.
"So that's why I say maybe it would be better for Joe if his father was dead," went on Mr. Stanton. "Disgrace is a terrible thing, and I couldn't bear to tell Joe, when he asked me about his father."
"But where did he go?" asked Blake. "Didn't he leave any trace at all?"
"Not a trace, lad—folks most generally doesn't when the detectives are after 'em. Hold on, though, I won't say Nate was guilty on my own hook. I'm only telling you what happened. I'd hate to believe he was a wrecker, misusing this light to draw vessels on the dangerous rocks; but it looks black, it looks black."
"Did the detectives actually accuse Mr. Duncan?" asked Blake.
"Well, they as much as did. They said some of the wreckers had been arrested, and had incriminated the assistant light-keeper. But Duncan was smart enough—provided he was guilty—to skip out. As I told Joe, his father left just
