tack several times before the boatman made the moorings.
The starlight gave such slight illumination that Ruth could not see who was in the boat. The sail was dropped, the boat moored, and then, after a bit, she heard a heavy step upon the dock. Only one person came toward her.
Ruth peered anxiously out of the shadow. A man slouched along the dock and reached the shell road. He turned east, moving away toward the lighthouse. It was Jack Crab.
"And Nita is not with him!" gasped Ruth. "What has he done with her? Where has he taken her in the boat? What does it mean?"
She dared not run after Crab and ask him. She was really afraid of the man. His secret communication with Nita was no matter to be blurted out to everybody, she was sure. Nita had gone to meet him of her own free will. She was not obliged to sail away with Crab in the catboat. Naturally, the supposition was that she had decided to remain away from the bungalow of her own intention, too.
"It is not my secret," thought Ruth. "She was merely a visitor here. Miss Kate, even, had no command over her actions. She is not responsible for Nita—none of us is responsible.
"I only hope she won't get into any trouble through that horrid Jack Crab. And it seems so
