eyes — long bottles of bitters — round bottles of hair tonic — square bottles of liniment — short, corpulent little bottles of purple pills — and all of them bearing that very prosperous, beaming moon-face and steel-rimmed spectacles on the label. Dr. Redfern!

“No,” said Valancy faintly. “No — that house belongs to Mr. Snaith.”

Dr. Redfern nodded.

“Yes, I understand Bernie’s been calling himself Snaith. Well, it’s his middle name — was his poor mother’s. Bernard Snaith Redfern — that’s him. And now, Miss, you can tell me how to get over to that island? Nobody seems to be home there. I’ve done some waving and yelling. Henry, there, wouldn’t yell. He’s