think that my wife and I had found the dory and its small
passenger during an ordinary walk along the shore.

"A green dory!" he exclaimed. "Ben Forbes' old green dory has
been missing for a week, but it was so rotten and leaky he didn't
bother looking for it. But this child, sir--it beats me. What
might he be like?"

I described the child as closely as possible.

"That fits little Harry Martin to a hair," said old Abel,
perplexedly, "but, sir, it can't be. Or, if it is, there's been
foul work somewhere. James Martin's wife died last winter, sir,
and he died the next month. They left a baby and not much else.
There weren't nobody to take the child but Jim's half-sister,
Maggie Fleming. She lived here at the Cove, and, I'm sorry to
say, sir, she hadn't too good a name. She didn't want to be
bothered with the baby, and folks say she neglected him
scandalous. Well, last spring she begun talking of going away to
the States. She said a friend of hers had got her a good place
in Boston, and she was going to go and take little Harry. We
supposed it was all right. Last Saturday she went, sir. She was
going to walk to the station, and the last seen of her she was
trudging along the road, carrying the baby. It hasn't been
thought of since. But, sir, d'ye suppose she set that innocent
child adrift in that old leaky dory to send him to his death? I
knew Maggie was no better than she should be, but I can't believe
she was as bad as that."

"You must come over with me and see if you can identify the