“Father Monty shook his head, refusing to accept the niece’s interpretation of the images the Indian chief had drawn in the sand. He absolutely rejected the notion that something evil had invaded their ship. They were on their way back to the San Carlos, having bade good-bye to their new friends at the campfire. Father Monty led the way down the return path. The niece followed several feet behind, pushing the cat-filled stroller. “Absolutely ridiculous!” Father Monty’s ranting could be heard all... along the beach. “I’m a priest,” he said, stopping to turn and wag his finger at the niece. “Trust me, I would know if the ship was possessed.” He resumed his pace, no less agitated. “I have specific training in this area.” He threw his hands in the air. “No respect, I tell you.” The niece glanced down at the stroller and exchanged looks with Isabella. A discreet warble of skepticism floated up from the carriage. “Mrao.” — BY THE TIME Father Monty reached the gangplank that had been left propped down to the beach, he’d nearly lost his voice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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