frowning headlands that rise almost perpendicularly from
the sea. It is one of the most desolate stretches of coast in moderate
latitudes, for no one lives there, nor has ever lived there, except a
few hermit dulce-pickers during the summer months.

Along the east coast, that looks across the Atlantic, are strung the
villages, nestled in bays and coves. And it is out from this coast
that the dozen little islands lie. First, and partially across the
mouth of the bay where the fishing fleet lies, is Long Island. Then
comes High Duck, Low Duck, and Big Duck. Farther south there are
Ross's, Whitehead, and Big Wood islands, not to mention spits, points,
and ledges of rock innumerable and all honored with names.

It was the fact of so many treacherous ledges and reefs to be
navigated safely in a four-knot tide that was agitating the half-dozen
"guests" at Mis' Shannon's boarding-house. It need hardly be said that
Mis' Shannon was a widow, but her distinction lay in being called mis'
instead of ma.

She made a livelihood by putting up the "runners" who made periodical
trips with their sample cases for the benefit of the local tradesmen,
and took in occasional "rusticators," or summer tourists who had
courage enough to dare the passage of the strait in the tiny steamer.

The principal auditor of the harrowing tales that were flying about
the table over the fish chowder was Mr. Aubrey Templeton, the young
lawyer from St. John's who had arrived on the steamer that afternoon.
Just opposite to Mr. Templeton at the table sat Jimmie Thomas, who,
being a bachelor, had made his home with Miss Shannon for the last
three years. And it was Jimmie who had held the table spell-bound with
his tales of danger and narrow escapes.

He had just concluded a yarn, told in all seriousness, of how a shark
had leaped over the back of a dory in Whale Cove and the two men in
the dory had barely escaped with their lives.

"And I know the two men it happened to," he concluded; "or I know one
of 'em; the other's dead. Ol' Jasper Schofield never got over the
scare he got that day."

The lawyer sat bolt upright in his chair.

"Do you know the Schofields?" he demanded of Thomas.

"Guess I ought to. I've been dorymate with Code when the old man was
skipper. A finer young feller ain't on this island."

"Do you happen to know where he is?" asked Templeton. "I came to
Grande Mignon on several important matters, and one of them was to
see him. I've tr