Cale kept his boat down among the willows, chained to a pole he had
driven deep in the bed of the river. It was one of his treasures.
He had fished from it up and down the stream; he had gone forth in
it at daybreak for wild ducks and geese.
Yes, Thane remembered the "skiff." Strange that no one else had
thought of it. Strange that even Amos Vick was satisfied she could
not have crossed the river except by the ferry. He wondered whether
it was tied up in its accustomed place over yonder, or was it now
on this side of the river? He felt a strange chill in his blood.
He was nearing the library when Alix came out. If she saw him she
gave no sign. She crossed the sidewalk threw the bridle rein over
the horse's neck, and swung herself gracefully into the saddle.
Without so much as a glance over her shoulder, she rode off at a
brisk canter in the direction of the ferry. He knew she was on her
way to see Mrs. Vick.
The R. F. D. postman making his rounds, came to Amos Vick's shortly
after noon that day. He volunteered a bit of information. Rosabel
had given him a letter when he stopped the day before. It was
addressed to Caleb Vick. She asked him how long he thought it would
take the letter to reach its destination. When he told her that
it might be delivered to Cale early the next day, she thanked him
and returned to the house.
He thought at the time that she looked "kind of white around the
gills.
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