ily changed his reply to a vigorous
nod.

"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Shay. "That completely clears my conscience. So
long, Bill."

And half a minute later he presented himself at Ruth Clinton's cabin.

"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Spofford, as she opened the door. She also
opened her eyes very wide, and sent a startled, apprehensive glance over
her shoulder into the warm, fire-lit interior. "What do you want?" she
demanded querulously of the unexpected visitor.

Mr. Shay took off his hat. "I'd like a few words with Miss Clinton," he
said. "I saw her come in, so she's not out. It's important, ma'am. She
will hear something to her advantage, as they say in the personals."

"Will you please return at three o'clock, Mr. Shay? My niece is resting
after the arduous labours of the--"

"I dassent wait," said "Soapy," with a furtive glance over his shoulder.
"If he sees me, I'll probably have to change my mind."

"Who is it, Auntie?" called out a clear voice from within.

"'Soapy' Shay," replied the visitor himself.

"Mr. Landover will be here presently, Mr. Shay,--" began the obstacle in
the doorway.

"I guess not," broke in "Soapy," forgetting himself so far as to wink.
"I expect you haven't heard the news, ma'am. He's had his nose put out
of joint."

"Good heavens! His nose out of--"

"Come in, Soapy," cried Ruth.

"Ruth, my dear,--do you know who--do you know what--"

"Sure she knows," again interrupted "Soapy," unembarrassed. "I'm not
after anybody's jewels, Mrs. Spofford,--and besides which I am the
principal candidate for Sheriff of this bailiwick. You don't suppose
a man who's running for the office of sheriff on Mr. A. A. Percival's
ticket is going to lift anything before election, do you? Besides which
I've made up my mind to be straight as long as I'm on this island, and
if I'm elected,--which I will be,--I'm going to see that nobody else
does anything crooked. Mr. A.A. Percival is a wise guy,--a mighty wise
guy. Says he to me, 'Soapy, you are one of the most expert--'"

"Come inside, Soapy," called out Ruth.

Mr. Shay entered. "You better shut the door, Mrs. Spofford," he said
coolly. "What I got to say is private. As I was saying, A. A. says to
me, 'Soapy, you are one of the craftiest and slipperiest crooks on this
side of the Atlantic Ocean. What you don't know about crime would fill
a book about as thick as a postage stamp. There's nobody on this island
more fittin' to be an officer of the law. You kn