She sat down and stared eagerly.]

And as the signal banner came down, there sounded a clarion note, as if
of victory, from the crest of a neighboring sand dune. It was the
crowing of Shrimp, still bold to challenge the world.

But Ethel gave no heed to the bird that had been her companion for a
time in misfortune. It occurred to her that she ought not to go away
from this place in such fashion as to leave Doctor Garnet to worry over
her fate, should he return and find her gone. She decided that she would
offer her rescuers a sufficient payment to wait throughout the day for
his return, before taking their departure.

Now, the boat was putting in at some little distance up the shore. But
there could be no doubt that a landing was intended, for the little sail
had been lowered, and one of the men was sculling toward the beach with
an oar.

CHAPTER XXII

THE PARTING CROW

In this particular case, the cock crowed, not thrice, but once. Indeed,
the single triumphant call was all that was necessary. It was as if the
vainglorious fowl was aware that he had been a figure in a tragedy, as
had been no other of his kind since the time when Saint Peter made
craven denial of his Master.

There was no possibility that Captain Ichabod could be deceived as to
the identity of the creature's voice. As the boat drew in toward the
shore to investigate the significance of the white flag that had
fluttered from the sand dunes and had then so abruptly vanished, the old
fisherman, hearing the cock's crow, turned to the detective and Roy
Morton, and spoke vehemently:

"Men, did ye hear that? Whar are your ears? I'll jest be John Browned if
that wa'n't my ole rooster Shrimp a-crowin'! Why, men, I declare to
goodness if it ain't a fact as sure as shootin'. I'd know that bird's
hide in the tan-yard with the feathers off. It's him, men--an' if he's
thar so is the gal!"

The all-important feature of the chase with Ichabod hitherto had been to
find Ethel. Not only on his own account, but for the sake of Roy, whose
deep distress aroused his sympathies. Now, however, when he heard his
old feathered friend lift up a lusty voice as if in salutation, the
fisherman for the time being forgot the graver aspect of their quest. A
new emotion dominated him: He must see Shrimp--at once! Forthwith, then,
he dropped the sheets, and sculled vigorously toward that part of the
beach whence had issued the sound of the crowing.

When the boat gro