e
did not like his writing that other girl and running away. Now she
would believe the cowardice was inherent, because he had written her,
also--and had run away. Horrible!

Through the knothole he sent a yell for rescue. Another and another.
They were unheard--at least, no one emerged from the bungalow. He sprang
to his feet and made another circle of the interior of the boathouse.
Then he sank down upon the heap of nets and again tried to think. He
must get out. He must--somehow!

The morning sunshine streamed through the little window and fell
directly upon the pile of newspapers he had brought from the kitchen and
thrown on the floor. His glance chanced to rest for an instant upon the
topmost paper of the pile. It was a New York journal which devotes two
of its inside pages to happenings in society. When he threw it down
it had unfolded so that one of these pages lay uppermost. Absently,
scarcely realizing that he was doing so, the substitute assistant read
as follows:

"Engagement in High Life Announced. Another American Girl to Wed a
Nobleman. Miss Ann Gardner Davidson to become the Baroness Hardacre."

With a shout he fell upon his knees, seized the paper and read on:

"Another contemplated matrimonial alliance between one of New York's
fairest daughters and a scion of the English nobility was made public
yesterday. Miss Ann Gardner Davidson, of this city, the breaking of
whose engagement to Russell Agnew Brooks, son of George Agnew Brooks,
the wealthy cotton broker, was the sensation of the early spring, is to
marry Herbert Ainsworth-Ainsworth, Baron Hardacre, of Hardacre Towers,
Surrey on Kent, England. It was said that the young lady broke off her
former engagement with Young Brooks because of--"

The prisoner in the boathouse read no further. Ruth Graham had said to
him the day before that, in her opinion, he had treated Ann Davidson
unfairly. He should have gone to her and told her of his quarrel with
his father. Although he did not care for Ann, she might care for him.
Might care enough to wait and . . . Wait? Why, she cared so little that,
within a few months, she was ready to marry another man. And, if he owed
her any debt of honor, no matter how farfetched and fantastic, it was
canceled now. He was absolutely free. And he had been right all the
time. He could prove it. He would show Ruth Graham that paper and . . .

His jaw set tight, and he rose from the heap of fish nets with the
folded