I've stopped worryin' about him years an' years ago."

"If I see Tom," volunteered the boy, "I'll tell him yer want him,"--and
he hurried away.

The next morning Sandy left home earlier than usual, and on his own
account began a search for Lillian. A new theory had taken possession
of him, and he started at once for the river. At the magazine gate he
chatted with the sentry about the mysterious disappearance, and passed
on. When he reached the shore half a mile beyond, he was surprised to
find that the padlock on the door of the shed had been pried off, and
that his boat was missing.

Opening the door he saw that his oars and blankets were gone, and he
began to feel that his theory might lead him to important discoveries.
For fully five minutes he stood motionless, and gazed into the river,
buried deep in his own thoughts. Then he soliloquized: "I wonder if
Lily's been stolen? S'pose, while we've been searchin' fer her high an'
low, Foley an' the galoot what whacked me jest took the little girl an'
carried her off in my boat? That 'ere story 'bout Dennis Foley buyin' a
ticket for Philadelphy struck me as fishy when I fust heerd it, an' now
I don't believe it a t'all. They couldn't git through the magazine gate
'thout the guards seein' them, an' whoever took my boat either came up
the shore or down the shore. 'Tain't likely they came from up shore,
'cause they could 'a' found a hundred boats 'tween here an' the upper
bridge."

Turning around, Sandy started down the beach toward the cemetery. He
was studying carefully the ground beyond the point of high tide, and in
a few moments reached the ravine where, two nights before, the three
abductors had stopped, upon hearing Colonel Franklin and his sailing
party approach.

"Well, I'll be durned," he exclaimed, for in the sand before his very
eyes was the impress of four pairs of shoes. Two were evidently those
of men, one small enough to be that of a boy, and one so tiny as to
convince him it was that of a child.

"This is the way they come," he continued, "and there wuz three of 'em
in the gang besides the little one, an' I'm sure er that."

He followed the footprints until he reached the old wharf. Peering
through the rotten timbers, he said:

"That's a rum ol' hole. I don't believe Satan hisself would go in
there, but I'm goin', an' see what I kin see."

Sandy had no difficulty in entering the cave, which he found strewn
with whisky bottles, pieces of bread and