it threatened to sail into the air like a balloon. Jack began to look
anxious.

“I think I’ll go down and see how the sloop’s getting along,” he
announced. “It looks to me as though she was a little farther up than
she was. I’ve got another anchor aboard and I guess I’d better drop it.”

The others volunteered to accompany him and they went staggering down
the slope to the wharf, clutching at their caps and stumbling over
bushes under the rude buffets of the wind. The river was running
high, with masses of driftwood and froth piled along the margin. The
_Corsair_ had swung in amongst the spiles and was apparently trying to
rub her varnish off, while the dory――

The boys looked at each other in dismay. Where was the dory? There was
not a vestige of it. It had been securely tied to one of the spiles;
Jack had attended to it himself; and that it could have tugged loose
seemed impossible.

“Bill Glass,” breathed Hal with a kind of “I-told-you-so” inflection.

“I don’t believe it,” replied Bee stoutly. “You’re getting so you blame
Bill Glass if you bite your tongue, Hal. Besides, I saw him when he
went off and he certainly didn’t have Jack’s dory.”

“He could have come back last night and taken it, couldn’t he?” asked
Hal scathingly. “Oh, he’s got it all right enough!”

“But he wouldn’t dare to,” persisted Bee. “Why, he couldn’t hide a
dory, could he?”

“He doesn’t have to hide it. He’s painted it blue by this time!”

“Well, somebody must have taken it,” said Jack troubledly, “for I don’t
believe any amount of wind would have untied those hitches of mine.
Still, I suppose I’d better go up the river a ways and look. May I take
the launch, Hal?”

“Of course, and we’ll go along.”

But although they chugged up the stream for a half-mile or more they
saw no trace of the _Faith_ and finally Jack declared that it was
useless to look farther unless they meant to go all the way to Bill
Glass’s. “That dory never got around three bends in the river,” said
Jack, “without being towed. She’d have gone ashore long before this.”

So they turned the launch and went back in the teeth of the gale.
Fortunately, although the tide was unusually high, the banks of the
stream still afforded some protection from the wind. Otherwise the
_Corsair_ would have blown on the sand-bars time and again. Back at
the island, they kept on to the _Crystal Spring_. The sloop had worked
pretty well over to the south side of the river entrance and was
rolling and plunging most undignifiedly. Jack scrambled aboard as soon
as the launch was under her lee and presently returned with his second
anchor. They ran around the stern of the sloop and almost across to
the opposite beach. There Jack tossed the anchor over. Then, paying
the cable out, the launch pitched her way back to the sloop and Jack
made the rope fast on the bow. They were all pretty well drenched by
the time they got back into the quieter water of the river, and as soon
as they had made the launch secure where she could not rub against the
spiles they got back to the tent as quickly as their legs would carry
them.

They heaped wood on the dying fire and tried to dry their garments, but
it was not so easy. If they got in the lee of the fire they were choked
with smoke and deluged with sparks, while if they moved elsewhere they
got little heat and the wind went through their wet clothing until
their teeth chattered. Jack finally announced that there was but one
thing to do, and that was to get their clothes off, rub themselves dry
and warm with towels and dry the garments at the fire. This proved
a good idea, for by the time they had applied the rough bath towels
vigorously to their bodies they were in a comfortable glow. Draping
themselves in blankets, they threw more fuel on the fire and held their
clothes in the warmth until they were at least fairly dry. By that
time it was long after five o’clock and supper was to be thought of.
They decided that hot coffee would be appropriate and that it would be
useless to try and do any cooking. So half an hour later they huddled
in the tent and ate cold canned tongue, bread and butter, cheese and
vanilla cookies and drank plenty of steaming hot coffee.

“That coffee is certainly what I needed,” sighed Hal, “but I won’t be
able to sleep a wink before ten o’clock.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t anyhow,” replied Jack, “with this wind howling
so. I wish I was sure this old tent wouldn’t leave us in the middle of
the night.”

They lighted the lanterns and heaped up the fire again and strove to be
cheerful. But the lanterns flared and guttered and the boom of the sea
and the roar of the wind were depressing. Even Bee began to look glum,
and long before it was nearly their usual bed-time, conversation had
entirely died out and the three boys were huddled under their blankets
silently watching the lanterns swaying from the roof-pole. They had
decided that they would not take their clothes off, since, as Jack
pointed out, it might be necessary for them to get up and chase the
tent across the island before morning.

“I’d give something to be at home just now,” observed Hal once, “with
my back to the library fire. This camping-out isn’t all it’s cracked up
to be, fellows.”

“And this is certainly camping _out_,” agreed Bee. “I suppose it was on
nights like this that Old Verny used to light his trusty lantern and
take a stroll along the beach, eh, Jack?”

“I dare say. I guess there’s more than one boat in trouble tonight. The
wind must be blowing a good forty miles.”

There was not much pleasure in talking, however, even if they had had
anything to say, for the noise of the elements was so great that they
had almost to shout to make themselves heard across the tent, and so
they relapsed into silence again and regretted having drank that coffee.

About nine o’clock a flurry of rain set in and the drops dashed against
the tent like hailstones. Several crashes of thunder followed, and
once the lightning flared so brightly that the glow of the swaying
lanterns was dimmed in the tent. Then the rain blew over, the thunder
died away as quickly as it had come and only the dry gale remained. But
its fury continued unabated and by ten o’clock had even perceptibly
increased. The only thing that saved the tent was the fact that it
was protected from the direction of the storm by the shoulder of the
hill and the grove. Even as it was, it seemed every moment that at
the next onslaught the canvas would be ripped into ribbons or torn
from its ropes. The boys huddled under their blankets with taut nerves
and staring eyes, watching the canvas above them bulge and flap and
the lanterns rock and flare, with sleep a long way off. And yet it
is probable that, an hour or so later, each was drowsing a little,
for when the first sudden _boom_ of the cannon came Jack heard it as
though in a dream, while Bee and Hal, being questioned, declared they
had heard nothing. They waited. The minutes passed and only the howling
and screeching of the tempest was audible. Jack had about reached the
conclusion that he had imagined the sound when it came again:

_Boom-m-m-m!_

The boys started, and Jack, tossing aside his blankets, jumped to his
feet.

“What is it?” shouted Bee anxiously.

“A ship ashore,” answered Jack, buttoning his jacket and pulling his
cap down on his head. “Come on!”

CHAPTER XXII

In The Teeth of The Gale

He seized the lantern and in a moment they were out of the tent,
staggering along in the wake of the flickering light, the wind beating
and buffeting them at every step. The world was a wild confusion of
darkness and turmoil. Jack led the way around the side of the hill and
presently the full force of the gale found them and they reeled under
the shock of it. After that it was only by bending forward and digging
their feet into the ground that they could get ahead. The air was wet
with salt spume from the waves below. They fought onward a step at a
time, their eyes half-closed, gasping for breath. And suddenly ahead
of them in the blackness a trail of light flared skyward and a rocket
burst into flying sparks.

Jack pulled the others down beside him on the ground. “She’s on The
Tombstones,” he shouted. He hid the lantern under his jacket and
peered for a minute through the darkness. “Two-masted schooner,” he
announced. “Fisherman, I guess. I can just see her.” But the others,
strain their eyes as they might, could make out nothing.

“What can we do?” cried Bee.

Jack arose. “Come on,” he shouted. They staggered ahead again, Jack
leading the way upward until they were at the edge of the grove. There,
while Hal and Bee crouched beside him, Jack braced himself against a
tree and waved the lantern back and forth in long sweeps of his arm.
Again the cannon boomed and again a rocket trailed into the night. Bee
thought once he heard a hail from the schooner, but he could not be
certain for the wind was full of strange sounds and voices. For several
minutes Jack waved. Then, summoning the others, he led them back around
the hill. They went almost at a run, stumbling over rocks, tripping
over bushes, the wind behind them seemingly bent on blowing them off
the island. Hal wondered how they could ever find the tent again, but
Jack led them to it unerringly and they staggered in, breathless and
white-faced. Jack placed the lantern down and sank to his bed. No one
spoke for a moment. Then――

“Isn’t there anything we can do, Jack?” faltered Hal huskily. “Could we
get to them in the launch?”

Jack shook his head. “Let me think a minute,” he said. He placed his
elbows on his knees and sank his chin in his hands, gazing at the
ground. Bee, nervously buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket, watched
impatiently. Finally Jack beckoned and they gathered close to him.

“I guess,” he said, “the only thing we can do is get word to the life
savers. Maybe they’ve seen the rockets already and are on the way, but
there’s no way of being sure about that. There’s no patrol in summer
and I guess the only place they’d see the signals from is the Fort.”

“Where’s the nearest station?” asked Hal.

“Greenhaven; Harbor Beach,” said Jack.

“But that’s miles away! They’d never get here!”

“They could do it in an hour, I think. They’d come straight down the
harbor and through the canal into Eight-Fathom Cove. They have a motor
boat and it can go pretty fast. They’ll have an awful time off Toller’s
Sands, though, and maybe they won’t dare to try it. But I guess it’s
up to us to get word to them. There’s nothing else we can do, is there?”

Hal and Bee shook their heads. Through the storm came the _boom_ of the
cannon again. Bee moved impatiently.

“Whatever we do, let’s get at it!” he exclaimed. “How long will that
boat last out there?”

Jack shook his head. “There’s no knowing.”

“But how can we get to Greenhaven?” demanded Hal wildly. “You don’t
mean the――the launch?”

“Up the river to the railroad,” answered Jack. “The river’s full and I
guess we can make it without running aground. There’s a switch tower
back of Cove Village and we can telephone from there. Will you fellows
try it?”

“Of course,” answered Hal. “You take the lantern and Bee and I will
bring the oars. Is there anything else we’ll need?”

“No. All ready? Come on, then!”

Down the hill they plunged. Near the last trenches they had dug they
passed out of the protection of the hill and the wind had a clean
sweep at them. They had to cling together there. Then they were on
the sands. Dimly they could see the swaying mast of the sloop a few
rods away. Finally the dim, flaring light of the lantern fell on the
wharf and the _Corsair_. Jack handed the light to Hal and scrambled
down the bank. The river was high and running with waves. Clinging to
a spile, Jack reached the painter and pulled the bow of the launch
in. One by one they scrambled aboard. Hal started the engine; it took
several minutes to do it; then Jack cast off and seized the wheel.
The lantern was hidden in the stern locker and _Corsair_ chugged
slowly forward into the darkness. Jack strained his eyes, but as yet
he could see nothing. Luckily he knew the direction the stream took
and for the first few minutes the launch was steered by guess work.
Then the banks began to be distinguishable from the water as his eyes
became accustomed to the darkness and he called for more speed. Hal,
crouching in the back of the launch, opened the throttle further and
the _Corsair_ began to dip and roll. Bee staggered forward and stood
beside Jack.

“Can you see where we’re going?” he shouted.

“I can see enough,” Jack answered. “Lots of depth tonight. We’ll get
there, I guess. Faster, Hal!”

The roar of the surf lessened behind them as the launch sped inland
along the narrow stream. The banks protected them somewhat from the
wind, but its voice was in their ears all the time and the _Corsair_
shivered and rocked as the gusts found her. At such times Jack had all
he could do to keep her off the bank. The minutes passed. One turn
after another was passed in safety, the launch reeling off a good six
miles an hour. Then there was a sudden shock, a moment of hesitancy and
again the _Corsair_ was plunging forward.

“Sand-bar,” shouted Jack in Bee’s ear. “Got over it!”

Seaward the rockets still flared in the darkness. It already seemed
hours since they had started, although it is probable that they had
been going but a scant fifteen minutes. Jack shouted to Bee and Bee
scrambled back to inform Hal that they had passed the old bridge.

“He says it’s only about three-quarters of a mile further to the
track,” cried Bee. “We’re near Bill Glass’s place now. How’s she
running?”

“Fine.” Hal squirted some oil in the general direction of the engine.
Then the oil-can flew out of his hand and he sat down forcibly on the
grating, with Bee on top of him. The _Corsair_ had brought up with a
jolt!

“Stop her!” came Jack’s voice faintly. “Reverse! Quick!”

Hal, gathering himself up, grabbed at the lever. The propeller churned
and the _Corsair_ shivered. Jack hurried back.

“She’s hard aground,” he shouted. “Have you reversed her?”

“Yes.”

“Where are the oars?”

Seizing one, he hurried back to the bow. Bee took the other and joined
him. The propeller lashed and the boys pushed, but the launch, her
nose deep in a bank of clay, refused to budge. Gradually her stern,
under the force of the wind, swung around until it struck against the
opposite bank with a jar.

“Stop your engine, Hal!” cried Jack. “It’s no good. Get the lantern
out, Bee. We’ll have to foot it.”

They scrambled up the bank from the bow, slipping on the mud and slime,
and with the wind howling about them and trying to blow them into
the water struggled on over the marsh, tripping on tufts of grass,
fighting for every inch. Once Bee lost his footing and would have gone
headlong into the river had not Hal seized him. Then there was an
exclamation from Jack. The lantern light fell on a tiny wharf jutting
into the stream. Turning, Jack led them away from the river. “It’s Bill
Glass’s!” he cried. “We’ll stop here a minute.”

The cabin suddenly loomed before them and they staggered into its
shelter. Jack raised his hand and hammered at the door. There was no
response from within and he pushed against the crazy old portal. It
swung readily on its leather hinges, scraping across the floor.

“Hello! Bill Glass!” cried Jack.

“Hi! Who be ye?” came a muffled voice from the cabin.

“Jack Herrick. There’s a schooner on The Tombstones. We’re trying to
get word to the life savers.”

“Come in, mates.” They obeyed, the lantern light throwing fantastic
shadows over the strange room. On the edge of the bunk sat Bill Glass,
already struggling with his trousers. “Sit ye down an’ rest, mates,”
he said. “So there be a schooner ashore, eh? Aye, there’ll be plenty o’
them in trouble this night. Could ye see her, mates?”

“Faintly,” answered Jack, fighting for breath. “We heard her gun and
then saw the rockets. She’s hard on The Tombstones, I think. We thought
if we could get to the switch tower down the track we could telephone
from there.”

“Aye, so ye could, so ye could. What time might it be?” Bill peered at
the nearest clock. “Nigh one bell, is it? Then there be time to get to
the railroad afore the night freight comes by. Where be my jacket?”

The cat appeared from under the stove and eyed them blinkingly. Bill
Glass buttoned his old pea-jacket about him, found his hat and reached
down a lantern.

“No call for us all to go, I cal’ate,” he said as he lighted it. “Leave
your lantern here for them, Jack Herrick, an’ you come along o’ me.”

“That’s so, fellows,” said Jack. “We’ll get there quicker if there’s
fewer of us. You wait here.”

“Aye, an’ build ye a fire in the stove, mates, an’ get warm. There be
coffee there, an’ tea, likely, if you’ll look a bit. Come on, mate!”

CHAPTER XXIII

The Life-Boat Wins

Bill Glass, lantern in hand, plunged into the darkness and the storm,
Jack following at his heels. Their way led them away from the winding
river and under the radiance of the lantern Jack saw that they were
treading a well-defined path through the marsh-grass. It was as much
as he could do to keep up with his guide, whose shuffling gait, while
it might look slow, covered ground with remarkable rapidity. And while
Jack was forced to stagger under the force of the gale, Bill Glass, his
head erect, never faltered. Five minutes of tramping brought them to
the railroad trestle which was here raised some eight feet above the
marsh, and even as they reached it the rails began to hum and afar to
the northward a white light came into view.

“There she be,” said Bill. “Best give me a boost, mate; I be n’t as
spry as I was.” Jack aided and Bill scrambled to the trestle. Then
the lantern was handed up and Jack followed. If it had been hard to
keep one’s footing below it was infinitely harder here and Jack was
disconcerted to find that Bill meant to walk along the track. How
he managed to step safely from one timber to another with that gale
lashing and buffeting him Jack couldn’t understand, for it was all the
boy could do to keep his feet. But fortunately a dozen yards brought
them to a place where the cross timbers had been carried several feet
out at the side of the trestle to accommodate a barrel of water for use
in case of fire. Here there was room to stand out of the way of the
train, and, better still, something to hold on to. Bill set the lantern
on the track and waited.

“She be heavy tonight,” he muttered, “or maybe the wind be rocking them
cars.”

The humming of the rails was not audible up there but the white light
grew and grew and soon Bill was out on the track waving his lantern.
And then, above the roaring of the wind, sounded the shrill, imperative
blasts of the locomotive whistle, followed more faintly by the jangle
and bumping of the freight cars as the brakes were set, and the long
train came to a stop some distance down the track. Bill Glass seized
his lantern and started off toward it and Jack, his knees quaking,
followed as best he could. But when he too reached the engine the
engineer was already making ready to go on and he had to seek another
barrel platform with Bill Glass and wait while car after car went
clattering, jarring by. When the rear light had passed Bill piloted
the way back. By this time Jack had become fairly adept at walking a
trestle in a fifty mile gale, although he was heartily glad when Bill
stopped and climbed down to the ground again. Once more on the path it
was possible to talk and be heard, and Jack asked anxiously;

“Will they tell the life savers?”

“Jim said he’d stop at the section house a mile below here and
telephone to town. Jim’s got two sons at sea himself and he won’t
forget, mate.”

There was no more said until they reached the cabin again, which was
no slight task, since the wind was more in their faces going back. But
finally the welcome gleam of the light met them and they staggered into
the shelter of the building and pushed open the door. Hal was fast
asleep in a chair and Bee, the yellow cat in his lap, was only half
awake.

“I thought you’d walked into the river or lost your way,” he said with
relief. “Old Hal’s asleep, isn’t he? Wake up, Hal!”

Bill Glass said it might be two hours before life savers would reach
the wreck and set about making some coffee. He soon had the fire
started and the kettle filled with water. The boys could not but admire
the deft way in which he accomplished things, even Hal acknowledging
grudgingly afterwards that “the old pirate was no fool.” As Bill busied
himself about the stove Jack told how they had been awakened by the
sound of the cannon and how they had gone out to locate the wreck,
afterwards speeding up the river in the launch until a sudden gust had
rammed her bow into the bank.

“We’ll have a sip o’ coffee,” said Bill, “an’ then we’ll take the dory
an’ go back there to your boat. Likely we can pull her off.”

When the coffee was ready they each drank a cupful of it and, although
their host offered them no milk for it, it warmed and invigorated them.
Afterwards they got into the dory under the little wharf and, Bill at
the oars, and two lanterns to light them, went slowly down the narrow
stream. They reached the launch in almost no time at all and Bill
again took command of the situation. Hal was directed to start the
engine and keep her at neutral. Then the stern was pushed off and the
propeller was started slowly at reverse. Bill clambered to the bank,
braced himself and pushed, while Bee and Jack shoved on the oars,
and in a moment the _Corsair_ was free again. Bill hitched his dory
astern and, since there was not room there to turn the launch about in,
directed Jack to go on up the stream for a ways. How in that blackness,
Bill Glass could tell one place from another, was a mystery, but in
a minute he ordered the engine stopped and, taking an oar, soon had
the launch headed down stream. Then they set off for the island once
more. Bill spoke only once on the journey. Then making a trumpet of his
hands, he shouted across to Hal at the engine;

“That be likely one o’ your father’s boats out there. Ain’t no others I
knows of carries signal guns.”

The wind was almost dead ahead for most of the way and the _Corsair_
tossed and careened like a sloop in a squall. Long before they found
the wharf they began to encounter waves, and they were all pretty well
sprinkled by the time the landing was made. All the way back they had
watched for rockets beyond the island but had seen none. Jack said
they had probably used them all up. Bee suggested that perhaps help
had already reached them. But when, after making fast the launch, they
battled around the beach in the teeth of the gale a dim light showed in
the locality of The Tombstones and Bill Glass, peering under his hands
through the darkness, announced that the schooner was still there.

There was nothing they could do but watch and wait, and after Bill
had signalled for some minutes with his lantern and received finally
an answering wave from the schooner they crept back to the tent for
shelter. At intervals Bill went to the flap and viewed the sea in the
direction of Toller’s Rock. There wasn’t much conversation. There
was little to say and the noise of the waves and wind made talking
difficult. The tent still threatened to go at every blast and still
held. An hour passed and the hands of Bee’s watch pointed to ten
minutes past two when there came an exclamation of satisfaction from
Bill Glass, who had gone to the tent door for perhaps the twentieth
time.

“There she be!” he called. “Roundin’ the Rock this minute. I see her
light.”

The boys clustered behind him and looked. Afar out was a tiny flicker
that came and went as the waves tossed the boat up and down. Then
suddenly a strong beam of white light shot across the water, moved
right and left and disappeared again.

“They be a-lookin’,” said Bill. “That be her search-light.”

From the front of the tent they watched the tiny speck of light draw
nearer and nearer until, at length, it was abreast of the island. Then
it disappeared suddenly and there was a gasp from Bee.

“She’s sunk!” he cried.

“Not she,” answered Bill Glass. “She be all water-tight compartments.
Upset she can, mate, but never sink. That light be in the bow an’ she’s
passed us. There be her search-light again.”

There came a chorus of cries from the boys as suddenly, out of the
blackness, the wrecked schooner appeared bathed in light. For a moment
only the search-light played upon her and then darkness shut down
again.

“Square between the ledges she be,” exclaimed Bill. “Mainmast broke
short off and fore-top-mast hangin’. Crew’s in the riggin’ and the
sea’s breakin’ over her deck hard, mates. But her hull be all right
yet, I cal’ate.” They hurried around the hill again, fighting the gale,
until they were opposite the scene.

“I saw three or four men clinging to ropes,” said Bee to Jack in an
awed voice. “Will they get them off, Jack?”

“Surely,” Jack answered. “I wonder if the life-boat can get alongside
of her.”

“Aye, that she will,” replied Bill Glass. “Come around lee side o’ her,
likely. She be one o’ Folsom’s boats, I cal’ate. A mighty long overhang
for’ard, she has, an’ she might be the _Jupiter_.”

For what seemed many minutes there was no sign of the life-boat’s
lights. Then the bow lantern glinted again near shore and was gone.

“Crawlin’ around to looard, she be,” said Bill Glass admiringly. “Eh,
I’d like mighty well, mates, to be havin’ a hand down there myself!”

The search-light flooded the scene again, but this time its radiance
disclosed only a part of the dark hull and the deck-house and a smother
of water that seemed rushing in all directions. The disk of light
again disappeared, and in its place shone, startlingly brighter and
nearer at hand, the bow light of the rescuer. After that the watchers
on land could only surmise what was taking place down there in that
cauldron of seething waves and frantic winds, for the search-light did
not show again. It was Bill Glass who pictured the scene for them,
shouting to them as they clustered close about him.

“She be alongside now, mates, under the quarter likely. All hands leave
ship! Aye, aye, twice I’ve heard that word, mates; once off Sable
Island an’ once ’most in sight o’ port. They be climbin’ down in the
life-boat now, I cal’ate, an’ the skipper’s got his log-book an’ his
gold watch an’ maybe a trinket or two. All hands to the life-boat! Eh,
they won’t need much tellin’! Thankful to go, they be, I cal’ate.”

A light moved, swaying along the deck, and then went down out of sight.

“That’ll be the last, I cal’ate,” said Bill. “Skipper, likely. Now she
be castin’ off. Can you see her light, mates?”

They couldn’t for a moment, but presently it appeared and moved, rising
and falling, and once they thought they heard the beat of the engine
as the life-boat fought her way off the shore and headed seaward.

[Illustration: THE LIFE-BOAT WINS.]

“Aye, a good job, shipmates!” shouted Bill Glass as the bow light was
lost to them. “God bless ye for brave boys!” He turned and led the way
back toward the tent. Eastward there was a lightening of the horizon
that told of the coming day. Back in the tent Bill blew out his lantern.

“If I be n’t in the way, mates,” he said, “I’ll just stop here for a
bit. It’ll soon be mornin’ an’ I be anxious to see what kind o’ a fix
that boat be in.”

“Make yourself at home,” said Jack heartily. “Take this blanket and put
it around you. Want to lie down here and have a nap?”

“No, no, I’ll just sit her an’ smoke a pipe, thank ye. But you best be
havin’ a sleep.”

“I don’t know about sleeping,” said Bee tiredly, “but I guess I’ll lie
down awhile. Will you wake me, if I should go to sleep, Jack?”

Jack promised, being certain that he would not sleep himself. But ten
minutes later each of the three boys was slumbering, and Bill Glass,
the acrid smoke from his pipe trailing out of the tent, sat open-eyed
awaiting the dawn.

CHAPTER XXIV

Old Verny’s Wharf

The sun came up over a heaving sea and the gale diminished. By five
o’clock, although the wind still blew hard, it had shifted a point
or two and Bill Glass predicted that by forenoon it would be gone.
Sleepy-eyed the boys tumbled out of the tent and followed Bill around
the side of the hill. There is always something depressing in the sight
of a wrecked ship and none of them spoke for several minutes.

The schooner lay gripped between the two ledges, her bow high out of
the water and the seas rushing across her abaft of the foremast. Her
deck had been swept clean and not a boat was in sight. She had settled
on a nearly even keel. The mainmast was broken short off some eight
feet above the deck and although it had been cut away it still wallowed
alongside, held by a rope or two. The foremast stood, but the topmast
hung in splinters. As far as could be seen, however, the hull had not
broken and Bill thought she was not leaking much.

“She be an old-timer,” said Bill. “The _Jupiter_, just as I told ye
last night. They made ’em staunch and able twenty years ago, mates.
She be one o’ your father’s boats, mate, an’ likely she be well filled
with fish. Maybe they’ll get her off, but she’s lyin’ ugly, she’s lyin’
ugly.” And Bill shook his head.

“They’ll send tugs around pretty soon, I guess,” said Jack. “But
they’ll have to wait for high tide, won’t they?”

“Aye, along toward two o’clock, I cal’ate. They’ll lighten her first,
though. Maybe if the sea goes down they can save the cargo. I don’t
know though.”

“There’s one ship right under her now,” said Bee. “We saw her the other
day.”

“Aye, the _State o’ Maine_,” agreed Bill. “She went to pieces there
forty-odd years ago, I cal’ate. A brig, she was. Seven men went down
with her, they tell.”

Bee shivered. “I’m glad I didn’t see any of them,” he murmured.

“Gone long afore this, they be,” answered Bill. “Well, I must be
gettin’ home. Cal’ate, though, I’ll be back again later.”

“Won’t you have some breakfast with us?” asked Bee.

“Thank ye, mate, but I’ll be goin’ back. There’s Benjamin Franklin to
feed an’――”

“Benjamin Franklin!” exclaimed Bee.

“The cat,” replied Bill with one of his hidden smiles. “He an’ me be
old friends an’ Ben don’t take kindly to waitin’ for his breakfast.”

They watched Bill go down the hill and across the sandy stretch to the
wharf and then set about preparing breakfast, everyone taking a hand
since all were hungry. The wind had sensibly diminished and it was
possible to build a fire outside. Jack was just touching a match to
the kindlings when a faint shout reached them and they saw Bill Glass
a hundred yards or so up the river waving his hand and pointing across
the flat between the river and the sea.

“Now, what’s he mean?” muttered Jack as they moved around the shoulder
of the hill. Then three ejaculations of astonishment burst from as many
throats. Across what yesterday had been a level stretch of dry sand and
beach-grass flowed a twenty-foot inlet! The sea had claimed its right
of way once more and once more Nobody’s Island had become an island in
fact as well as in name! At the ocean end the waves had eaten a wide
indentation in the shore, from which the new stream curved westward
until it joined the river. Even as they looked a long section of the
bank crumbled and splashed into the water and the little cove widened.

“Well, what do you think of that!” exclaimed Bee.

“Father always said that inlet would come back some day,” said Jack,
“and last night’s storm was just the kind to do it, for it was blowing
straight across that sand. It’s a good thing it wasn’t there when we
came back from Bill Glass’s or we might have turned into it and found
ourselves in the surf. Look at the wreckage over there, fellows.
There’s wood enough to last us all winter.”

“There’s a whaling big boat down there,” announced Hal. “See it! Lying
on its side where all that seaweed is piled up.”

“That’s right. It’s probably one of the _Jupiter’s_. We’ll have to go
down there after breakfast and look at it.”

“Now,” said Bee, as they ate, “we can go ahead. There’s no use trying
to find buried treasure on an island that isn’t an island at all.
That’s what has been queering us, fellows. Now that it is really an
island again, though, we can’t miss it!”

“You don’t mean that you’re going to start that business again?”
groaned Hal.

“Right away,” answered Bee cheerfully. “That storm has removed the
hoodoo from――from our undertaking, Hal.”

“Well, it certainly removed a lot of other things,” laughed Jack, “and
why not a hoodoo?”

“I’m hoping it removed our shovels,” said Hal. “We left them down there
where we were digging and I don’t see them now!”

“They’re in the trenches,” answered Bee. “I looked. And the trenches
are pretty nearly filled up again.”

After breakfast they went down to the new cove. The dory lay on the
opposite side of the inlet, however, and although Bee suggested wading
across, investigation proved that the water was at least four feet deep
in the shallowest place. So they removed their clothes, plunged in and
swam to the opposite side, Bee remarking that it was quite a thing to
be the first bathers there. When they reached the dory, however, they
found that it was half full of sand and that their united efforts
failed to even budge it.

“Well,” said Jack, “it won’t get away in a hurry. We’ll leave it for
someone else to rescue, I guess. There are probably more dories along
shore.”

They returned across the inlet and ran up and down in the wind to get
dry. It didn’t take long, but it was cold work and they were glad to
pull their clothes on again. Afterwards they set out along the edge of
the stream. The tide had begun to rise and the water was running in
fast. Now and then the edge of the sandy bank on their side would break
away and topple down, dissolving like sugar in a tea cup. Bee, who had
loitered a few steps behind the others, stopped and said “Hello!” in a
surprised voice and the others turned back.

“What have you found?” asked Jack.

Bee was kicking the sand with his foot and by the time Jack and Hal
reached him he had laid bare the top of a roughly-laid stone wall
or pavement. “It’s a cabin,” he exclaimed eagerly. “I mean it’s the
foundation of it. I’m going to get a shovel.”

“Bring them both!” called Jack as Bee sped off around the island.

Five minutes of digging, however, showed them that instead of finding
the foundations of the wrecker’s cabin they had unearthed the end of a
little stone wharf, and Bee was greatly disappointed. “Still,” he said
presently, “if the wharf was here it’s possible the cabin was nearby.”
He looked about for a probable site, but the sand continued for nearly
a hundred feet before the hill began and he finally agreed with the
others that Verny would not have been likely to build his house
thereabouts. “Just the same, I don’t see why he needed two wharves,” he
objected.

“I guess that other one must have been put up by someone else,”
pondered Jack. “When you come to think of it, those wooden spiles
wouldn’t have lasted for over forty years, would they? This was
probably Old Verny’s wharf and he put it here so he could get to it
from either side of the point.”

“Well, we’ve found something,” said Hal, “even if we haven’t discovered
the treasure. What’s that?”

The sound he had heard proved on investigation to be the whistle of a
tug and by the time they had reached the seaward side of the island
it was evident that the task of getting the _Jupiter_ off was about to
begin. Two tugs and a small lighter were lying off The Tombstones and
already a boat was putting off from one of the tugs. In the stern of it
sat two men whom Hal recognized even at that distance.

“That’s dad and Tom Dickenson,” he said. “They’re going to look things
over, I guess.” Hal waved his cap and after awhile the men saw and
waved back. “Look here, why can’t we go out there?” asked Hal eagerly.

“Not in the launch,” replied Jack. “We’d be on the rocks in five
minutes with that wind and tide. Let’s wait awhile. Maybe by noon the
wind will be gone. It’s holding up every minute now.”

So they perched themselves in a partly sheltered corner of the big
ledge overlooking The Tombstones and watched operations. The row boat,
with four men at the oars, circled around the _Jupiter_, tossing and
rocking on the waves. The two tugs, one having the lighter in tow,
wallowed and pitched at a safe distance, drifting in toward shore and
then steaming back again, until the row boat returned. Then activity
began in earnest. The tugs drifted down to within a rope’s throw of
the ledges and dropped anchors. Cables were payed out into rowboats
and in a few minutes the bow of the _Jupiter_ was alive with men. The
lighter was hauled alongside, cables were made fast, hatches thrown
off, wreckage was cleared away and the work of unloading the schooner
was begun. The work went merrily in spite of the high seas that still
swept now and then across the after deck. The men disappeared under
clouds of spray at times, but the baskets were lowered and filled with
fish and hauled up again by block and tackle and swung over the side
to the lighter, which lay under the bow, with remarkable regularity.
The mainmast, floating alongside, was hauled away by two men in a
cockleshell of a dory and made fast to one of the tugs. At the end of
an hour the wind, always drawing further into the north, was scarcely
more than a good blow and the surface of the sea perceptibly calmed.

Bill Glass reappeared just before noon and joined the boys on the hill.
The last of the unloading was finished shortly after and it was evident
that all was in readiness for an attempt to haul the _Jupiter_ off the
ledges; all, that is, save the tide. That would not be at its height
until 1:56, Bill Glass announced. The lighter was pulled safely away
from the schooner meanwhile and taken around the point and anchored.
Then the tug which had towed her lowered a boat and Hal, watching,
jumped to his feet.

“That’s dad,” he said. “He’s coming ashore. Come on, fellows.”

Hal hurried around the hill and down to the beach toward which the boat
was making, and the others, including Bill Glass, followed more slowly.
The boat ran up on to the sand on the crest of a breaker, a tall sailor
in rubber boots leaped over the bow and pulled and tugged, another wave
helped and Mr. Folsom jumped nimbly ashore. When the others arrived
father and son were already walking up the hill toward the tent. Mr.
Folsom was a man of medium size, with sharp black eyes, a dark beard
and a seamed and weather-tanned face that told of the days when he had
been a sailing captain instead of the head of a great business. He wore
glasses, had a voice at least one size larger than his frame led you to
expect and talked quickly and incisively.

“How are you, Bee?” he greeted, nodding briefly. “Having a good time
here? Who’s this, Harry?”

“This is Jack Herrick, dad. Jack, this is――”

“Glad to know you, Jack.” Mr. Folsom shook hands quickly. “I knew your
father very well. Hello, Bill Glass? What are you doing here? Keeping
an eye on these young Crusoes? How’s your health?”

“Ain’t complainin’, sir, ain’t complainin’. Sorry to see the old
_Jupiter_ gone, Mr. Folsom.”

“Gone? Not a bit of it! There isn’t hole or a crack in her, Bill. She’s
good for another ten years. We’ll have her on the railway by sunset. A
couple of dollars worth of pitch and oakum’s all she needs.”

“Glad to hear it, sir, glad to hear it. How about the crew, Mr. Folsom?
All safe be they?”

“Every mother’s son of them. Jasper White has a broken arm and a
Portugese named Paletto or something like that got a couple of ribs
busted. That’s all. I’ve got them in the hospital. Where’s this camp of
yours, Harry?”

Hal led the way up and Mr. Folsom viewed it with interest.

“Good thing you pitched it on this side the island,” he observed.
“You’d have blown away otherwise. What time do you serve dinner?”

“It’s time now,” answered Hal. “Will you stay, dad?”

“If I get an invitation,” replied Mr. Folsom dryly.

“We’ll have to have canned things, I guess,” said Jack. “We are all out
of fresh meat.”

“Anything is good when you’re hungry, Herrick. By the way, I want to
tell you youngsters right now that the next time a storm like that
comes up you’re to put out for home. Understand? Your mother had
conniption fits all night, Harry. And I guess your folks must have
been worried about you, Herrick. You ought to have known enough about
weather to have seen what was coming, eh?”

“Yes, sir, but by that time it was too stormy to get back,” replied
Jack. “Hal wanted to go but I was afraid to risk it.”

“I see. Well, you might have reached the railroad and picked up a
train. Don’t try it again. Found that treasure yet, Bee?”

“No, sir, not yet. We’re still hunting. We found Verny’s wharf this
morning, though.”

Mr. Folsom had to hear about that and Bill Glass asked no end of
questions and presently they all trooped down to see it.

“You remember this, Bill?” asked Mr. Folsom when they had looked it
over.

“Seems like I do, sort of,” responded Bill, scratching his head to aid
memory. “Seems, too, like there was a way alongside where the old man
used to pull his boat up. That would be gone now, though, I cal’ate.”

“Yes, there’s been many a sea through here since Old Verny left,”
agreed Mr. Folsom. “Well, that’s interesting, but not vastly important,
boys.”

Hal pointed out the dory to him and he said he would send someone for
it. Then they retraced their steps to the tent. Bill Glass, disclaiming
any desire for food, nevertheless accepted an invitation to dinner and
Jack set about opening the choicest of their canned delicacies.

“I suppose you boys slept right through the trouble last night,”
observed Mr. Folsom presently. “Or did you know about the _Jupiter_?”

The boys looked at each other and Hal began to laugh. Mr. Folsom
frowned. “Well, what’s the joke, Harry?” he asked.

“Why――why, dad, I thought you knew!”

“Knew what? What tomfoolery have you been up to now, eh?”

“I like that!” laughed Hal. “If it hadn’t been for us, especially Jack
and――Mr. Glass――things would have been a heap worse, I guess! It was we
who sent word to the life savers, dad.”

CHAPTER XXV

Mr. Folsom Makes An Offer

“_What?_” exclaimed Mr. Folsom. “How? When was this? Come, come, let’s
have it, Harry!”

So Hal, Bee assisting and Jack corroborating when called on, told the
story from the time they had been awakened by the cannon until they
reached Bill Glass’s cabin. After that Bill himself took up the tale.
“Plucky they was, Mr. Folsom,” he said in concluding. “Why bless ye,
sir, ’twan’t no night for a dog to be out! Most blowed away many’s the
time we did, sir. One thing, sir, be plumb certain, an’ that be that
them boys saved more’n one life aboard the schooner last night! Take my
word for it, sir! An’ Honest Bill Glass don’t lie!”

Hal frowned. He had grown to like Bill Glass much better since
yesterday, but he didn’t think it good taste on Bill’s part to insist
on his honesty when they all knew that he had helped himself liberally
to their belongings! But Hal’s father only nodded.

“I believe you, Bill,” he said. “Boys, this is a big surprise to me.
I didn’t know how the life saving crew learned of the wreck, but it
hadn’t occurred to me that it might have been through you. I don’t
see but what you’re a parcel of young heroes! Well, I am certainly
grateful, and I think the men will be when they learn of it. It appears
to me, Herrick, that you’re the prime hero of all, eh?”

“Oh, no, sir.” Jack shook his head. “We all had a hand in it.”

“It was Jack’s idea, though,” said Hal. “We’d never have thought of
getting to the railroad, would we, Bee?”

“Speak for yourself,” replied Bee with dignity. “I’d have thought of
it――ultimately; perhaps this morning!”

“And I haven’t forgotten, Herrick, that you saved these two simpletons
from an unpleasant experience, at least, and perhaps worse,” continued
Mr. Folsom. He was looking at Jack very hard with his sharp eyes, and
Jack, embarrassed, bent over his cooking. “You don’t look very much
like your father, but I guess you must be――a whole lot.”

“He be more like his grandfather,” agreed Bill Glass with conviction.
“I mind a story they used to tell about the old Cap’n, sir. Likely
you’ve hearn it. ’Twere in the old days afore the railroad came to
Greenhaven an’ we had to go to Shepard’s Falls to get the cars. ’Twas
a three mile drive an’ like as not when you’d get there the train
would be gone an’ there’d be no other till afternoon. Seems old Cap’n
Herrick driv over one day an’ afore he could get his horse put up an’
leg it to the station, the train was a-pullin’ out. The Cap’n he waved
an’ he shouted, but they didn’t see him an’ kep’ on a-goin’. So the
Cap’n he lit out after the train. He had pretty long legs, the Cap’n
did, an’ they say as long as they could see him from the station he
was gainin’ on the train every leap! He cal’ated to catch up with it
at Saunder’s Mill, which be only half a mile away, for in them days
the train used to stop maybe three or four minutes at a station. Well,
when the Cap’n got to Saunder’s there wa’n’t any train in sight. The
agent there was on the platform, though, an’ the Cap’n he asks: ‘Young
feller, have you seen a train go by here?’ Well, the agent he stared
an’ he says, ‘Yes, sir, the Newb’ryport train just went out.’ ‘How far
ahead be she?’ asks the Cap’n. ‘Maybe a half-mile by this time,’ says
the agent. ‘Sho!’ says the Cap’n. ‘Blessed if she ain’t gainin’ on me!’
An’ off he set again down the track. Well, sir, he hadn’t gone more’n a
half-mile farther, likely, when he sees the train. Seems they’d got a
hot bearin’ or lost a spar or somethin’, an’ the Cap’n he walks up and
climbs aboard. An’ just then the conductor comes along an’ sees him an’
says, ‘Why Cap’n Herrick, where’d you come from?’ An’ the Cap’n, bein’
a little angry, says, ‘I come from Shepard’s an’ I’d be in Newb’ryport
now if your fool train hadn’t been in my way!’”

Jack laughed with the others and announced that dinner was ready. There
weren’t plates enough to go around, nor cups either, but they got along
somehow and everyone ate hungrily save Bill Glass. Bill explained
apologetically that he’d had his breakfast pretty late――most eight
o’clock――and wasn’t hungry yet! Mr. Folsom praised the dinner and the
cook and then announced that he would have to get back to the tug.

“I guess we can start to haul her off pretty soon now. Want to come
along, Bill?”

Bill accepted the invitation eagerly. Hal asked if they couldn’t
go too, but Mr. Folsom said they might be in the way. “You can see
everything from here, boys. One thing you had better do, though, Hal,
and that’s take a trip home this afternoon and let your mother see that
you’re all right. You can spend the night and come back here tomorrow
if you haven’t had enough of it. Herrick, you come along too and have
some dinner with me this evening. I can’t promise as good as you gave,
but you won’t go hungry. Harry, come and walk down to the beach with
me.”

By half-past two the _Jupiter_ was safely off the ledge and by three
the whole flotilla of boats had disappeared around Toller’s Rock. The
boys had meanwhile decided to follow Mr. Folsom’s advice and return to
town for the night. Hal was loath to leave their property unprotected,
prophesying that they’d find even the tent stolen in the morning. But
after he had removed almost everything movable except the tent to
the _Crystal Spring_ he felt easier in his mind. They were to take
the sloop. The _Crystal Spring_ had stood the gale well, but she had
managed to swing her stern onto a sand bank and it took quick work to
get her off before the tide fell. As they moved out of the river mouth
Hal waved a fond farewell to the _Corsair_.

“I shall never see you again,” he mourned. “Bill Glass said the other
day that he guessed he’d have to have a motor boat, fellows, and here’s
his chance.”

“Look here,” said Bee, “I’m beginning to think we were all wrong about
the pirate. I don’t believe he stole those things, after all.”

“Well, who did then?” asked Hal.

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet it wasn’t Bill Glass. I like Bill!”

The wind had died down to a fresh breeze out of the north, but there
was enough of it to send even the _Crystal Spring_ along at a good pace
and it was only a little after five when she sidled into Herrick’s
Cove. Jack had tried to refuse Mr. Folsom’s invitation to dinner, but
the others would not hear of it.

“Besides,” said Hal, “he particularly wanted me to bring you.
He――there’s something he wants to see you about.”

So after a brief visit with Aunt Mercy and Faith the boys crossed
the Neck and took the ferry to town. Jack had changed into his best
clothes, and Hal and Bee, still in camp attire, pretended that he
was ashamed to be seen with them and walked behind him all the way
up the hill to the house. Mrs. Folsom proved to be a rather plump,
pleasant-faced, placid lady and Jack concluded that Mr. Folsom had
stretched it a little when he had told about the “conniption fits.”
She welcomed Jack warmly and rather embarrassed him with her praise
of his conduct. Mr. Folsom reached home late and dinner wasn’t served
until long after seven, by which time there were three very hungry
boys waiting. The dinner itself was more elaborate than any Jack had
ever partaken of and he had to watch Hal closely to see which knife or
fork to use. After dinner they went out to a wide screened porch that
was furnished just like a room, with electric lights and deep chairs
and tables and rugs and books, and Mrs. Folsom made coffee in a funny
copper contrivance and Mr. Folsom, stretching himself in a long wicker
chair, lighted a cigar and turned to Jack.

“Herrick, Harry tells me you’re still running that water boat your
father had. Doing pretty well, are you?”

“Pretty well, sir.”

“Could do better, though, if you had power, Harry says.”

“Yes, sir, it’s hard to get around. And when there’s a calm I have to
use the oars. There’s another boat selling water now――”

“So I hear. Ever think of putting an engine in yours?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve thought of it. I guess I’ll have to pretty soon.”

“I would. Now look here, Jack, here’s a proposition. Last year we piped
water down to the wharves so our boats could fill their tanks right
at their berths. But the town water isn’t fit to drink half the time
and our skipper tells us it gets rotten after it’s been in the butts
a week or two. I don’t drink it myself; we buy spring water; and I
don’t believe it’s fair to ask the men to. So much for that. Now I’ve
got a twenty horsepower Albany engine stored away that came out of the
_Bessie and May_ a couple of years ago. It’s in good shape; never was
used much; and it isn’t doing any good where it is. Here’s my offer,
Jack. You take your boat up to Collins and Haggins’ railway and I’ll
have them put that engine in her and fix her up in good shape. If she
needs overhauling they might as well do it. I’ll have them make a good
all-around job of her; new timbers or planks where they’re needed; new
stick, too, if you want. And a couple of coats of paint.”

“Why――why――” stammered Jack. “Thank you very much, Mr. Folsom, but――”

Mr. Folsom raised a protesting hand. “Wait a minute; I’m not through.
Now I might do this for you and still be in your debt, my boy, but I
think you’re enough like your father to refuse to let me. So I’m going
to make a trade with you. That spring water of yours doesn’t cost you
anything and it’s mighty fine water. Now if I do what I’ve offered to,
Jack, will you serve Folsom and Company’s boats with water for a year
without charge?”

“But――but that wouldn’t be fair, sir! If you said three years――or
four――”

“Hold on! We use a lot of water, my boy, nowadays. We have sixteen
vessels in our fleet. Don’t lose sight of that. It will keep you pretty
busy attending to us at times. No, a year is enough. After that we’ll
make a new dicker with you, and I guess I can trust you to give us fair
terms. Now, what do you say? Yes or no?”

“I say yes, of course, sir, and I――I can’t begin to tell you how much
I――how grateful――”

“I understand. And I’m grateful to you for what you did last night,
and what you did the other day when you rescued my boy and Bee off the
Head. And now there’s one more thing. Have you ever thought of putting
that water up in bottles and selling it that way?”

“No, sir.”

“Think it over. In this town I suppose more than half of us buy spring
water in bottles or carboys for drinking purposes. And I guess most
of us would as lief drink Crystal Spring water as any other kind. You
could sell it cheaper, too, for you wouldn’t have to ship it. Better
think that over, Jack.”

“Say, that’s a dandy scheme, dad!” exclaimed Hal. “How did you happen
to think of it?”

“That doesn’t sound flattering, Harry,” laughed Mr. Folsom. “As a
matter of fact, however, I hadn’t thought of it until I began to talk.
Then it occurred to me that if Jack here could deliver that water to
me I’d just as lief have it as the kind the grocer sells me. Jack,
you stop at the office some day and we’ll talk it over. You’ll need a
little money, probably, to get the thing started. Perhaps I can help
you there. Coffee ready, Lucy?”

Later a date was agreed on when the _Crystal Spring_ was to be at the
marine railway and Mr. Folsom promised to see that the gasoline engine
was delivered in time. The boys were greatly excited about it and Bee
expressed regret that he could not remain in Greenhaven and help Jack
run the boat. “And between times,” he said, “I could buzz around town
in an auto truck and deliver bottles of spring water, Jack. Honest,
you’d better make me an offer. I’m a dandy chauffeur――marine or――or
terrestrial!”

“That’s a fine old word!” applauded Hal. “But if you can’t chauffeur an
auto truck any better than you can a launch――Say, Jack, I wonder if the
_Corsair’s_ gone yet! Dad, who is this Bill Glass?”

“Who is Bill Glass?” Mr. Folsom set down his coffee cup.

“Why do you ask, Harry?”

“Why, because you seem to know him pretty well and we think he’s a bit
of a robber.” And Hal told of the disappearance of the articles from
the launch and of Jack’s dory. When he had concluded Mr. Folsom shook
his head.

“Harry, it’s a bad plan to judge folks by their looks. I’ve been fooled
too often myself not to have learned that. There’s your mother. When
I first saw her I thought she was a quiet, easy-going little woman
who wouldn’t say ‘boo!’ to a fly. Well, you see how she’s turned out.
Tyrannizes over me all the time; beats me; starves me to death!”

Mrs. Folsom smiled placidly as the boys laughed.

“But you’re all wrong about Bill Glass, Harry. Bill never stole
in his life, and I doubt if he ever told a lie. Whoever took your
things, it wasn’t Honest Bill Glass. Ever hear how he came by that
name? Bill years ago sailed for Townsend; was mate and then captain.
He had the _Ellen T._ for a couple of years and then they gave him
the _Massachusetts_ the first year she was built. Well, Bill had her
off New Foundland and he got caught inside the three-mile limit by a
revenue boat. Bill didn’t know he was inside the line until they nabbed
him and took him to port. They libelled the boat and the case went to
court. There wasn’t much of a case against him because it was pretty
doubtful just where the _Massachusetts_ had really been, owing to
the fog. I guess if Bill had been willing to lie about it they’d had
to release him. But when they asked Bill he told the truth. ‘Quarter
of a mile inside the limit,’ said Bill. And they put on the fine and
Townsend had to pay it. But that lost Bill his job. Townsend said he
was a fool. Bill sailed for me as mate several years and then built
himself a cabin over on the hay meadows and went to fishing. I guess
he’d managed to save a little money, for I don’t think he makes much
fishing, although I’ve seen him come in with a catch now and then. No,
it wasn’t Honest Bill Glass who took that dory, boys.”

“I didn’t think he did, anyway,” said Bee stoutly. “At least, not
lately.”

“Still, he certainly held us up good and hard for bringing us off Hog
Island,” said Hal.

“Oh,” laughed Mr. Folsom when he had heard about that, “Bill probably
saw you suspected him and thought he’d make you pay for it. And besides
I don’t see but what four dollars was a fair enough price. When you
first asked me about Bill I thought maybe you’d heard something.”

“Heard what, sir?” asked Harry.

“Well,” hesitated Mr. Folsom, “maybe I oughtn’t to speak of it. You
boys will have to promise not to let it go any further. It’s pretty
well known, I suppose, but nobody ever mentions it.”

“We promise,” said Hal eagerly. “What is it, dad?”

Mr. Folsom laughed. “You’re as eager for gossip as a woman, Harry. It’s
just this; if you boys ever found any treasure on Nobody’s Island it
wouldn’t belong to you after all.”

“It wouldn’t? Why, sir?” asked Bee.

“Because it would belong of right to Bill Glass.”

“Bill Glass! Why――why, does he own the island, sir?”

“No, although maybe he’s got as good a title to it as anyone. But
that’s not the reason. The real reason is that anything Old Verny
buried belongs to his heirs, and Bill Glass is Old Verny’s son!”

CHAPTER XXVI

The Letter In The Dory

“Yes,” continued Mr. Folsom when the expressions of surprise had died
out, “Bill’s real name is Jule Verny, or Verginaud. He was just a young
chap when they took the old man prisoner and shot his elder brother,
but he must have been a good swimmer, for they say he swam all the
way from the island to Fort Point. Anyhow, he got away. And he stayed
away for years, although there wasn’t any reason why he should have,
for he was just a boy and didn’t have anything to do with his father’s
misdeeds, I guess. He showed up in Greenhaven years afterwards, when
he was about thirty, I suppose, and no one would ever have known who
he was if old Mother Chilten, who was about a hundred and never forgot
a face, hadn’t called him by his name on the wharf one day. And Bill
wouldn’t lie about it. But he always clung to the name of Glass, which
I’ve suspected was a nickname given him on account of his glass eye.
So now you know who Bill Glass is.”

“But I don’t see,” said Bee presently, “why Bill seemed so anxious to
have us dig for the treasure. He always insisted that it was there
somewhere and that we might find it. If it is his――”

“Perhaps that is the reason,” replied Mr. Folsom with a smile. “I guess
Bill has hunted pretty well for it and now he’s willing to have someone
else do the work for him. I guess if you had found it you’d have
discovered Bill not very far away, Bee! I suppose now you’ll give up
your treasure hunting. I didn’t tell you this before because I thought
there wasn’t much danger of your running across it and I didn’t want to
spoil your fun.”

“I’m not ready to give up yet,” replied Bee stoutly. “After all, it
isn’t the money we want; it――it’s just the finding it! And unless the
others are tired of it I’d like to keep on awhile longer. Anyway, it’s
lots of fun on Nobody’s, Mr. Folsom, and I’m getting so I’d rather
sleep in a tent than indoors!”

“We’ll give you until Monday, Bee,” laughed Hal. “If you haven’t found
the treasure by that time we’ll quit. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Bee agreed that it was, and shortly afterwards Jack, thanking Mr.
Folsom again for his kindness, took his departure for the Neck. He
didn’t go to sleep very soon after he was in bed, in spite of the fact
that the hour was late. He had far too much to think about and was far
too happy!

The next forenoon the _Crystal Spring_ returned to the island, but
owing to the fact that there was almost no breeze――the day had turned
out hot and sultry――it was nearly dinner time when she reached her
anchorage. As the anchor splashed, Hal, who had laid hold of the
_Corsair_, which was to bear them ashore, glanced toward the wharf.
Instantly――

“Jack!” he cried. “Bee! The dory’s back!”

And sure enough, there was the _Faith_ tugging gently at the painter.
Conjecture was rife and the mystery was not explained until the
_Corsair_ was alongside the dory. In the bottom of the boat, lying on
an old net, were the things stolen from the launch!

“There’s the compass!” exclaimed Bee.

“And the fog-horn!” said Hal.

“And the lanterns!” added Jack.

In fact, everything had been returned except the boat-hook, and why
that was not there was explained a moment later when Hal descried an
envelope tucked amongst the articles. It was addressed to “Mister
H. Folsom, Esq.” and Hal broke the flap and drew forth a sheet of
blue-lined, gilt-edged paper.

“It’s from Bill Glass,” he exclaimed. “Listen, fellows.” And, with
pauses where Bill’s pencil had run away from him or failed to work
smoothly, Hal read:

“Dear sir, here be your dory. I seen you wan’t going to look for it
so i done it for you. Them portigees had it like i knewed they had
and told you so. I had to pay them 2 dollars and ½ before they let go
of them but thats alright because you paid me 4 dollars for bringing
you off Hog Island and that was more than the job was warth but i was
cross because you thot i had stolen your belongings. Wishing you luck i
remane resp’t’y yours H. B. Glass.

“P. S. The boathook want there but i got one you can have cheap the one
i showed you.

“P. P. S. Regards to the others from H. B. G.”

“What’s the H. stand for?” asked Bee when they had read the note the
second time.

“Why, Honest,” replied Jack. “Honest Bill Glass. See?”

“Well, he’s certainly proud of that first name, isn’t he?” Bee laughed.

“I guess he has a right to be,” returned Jack. “It isn’t such a bad
first name, Bee.”

“No, that’s true. Well, he is certainly a brick, fellows. And we’ll
have to look him up and thank him.”

“Maybe he will look us up,” replied Jack. “He probably left the dory
here on his way out. I wonder who the ‘Portigees’ are who took the
things. Probably some of those who live up by the track. It wouldn’t
be difficult for them to sneak down the river at night and not be
seen. Anyhow, I guess it doesn’t matter, now that we’ve got everything
back――everything except the boat-hook. And as Bill says he has one we
can have cheap.”

“I guess the least we can do is buy it,” laughed Hal. “Let’s go up and
see if things are all right in the tent.”

Their way led them by the scene of their recent excavations and
suddenly Bee gave a cry of surprise and regret.

“Fellows, the tree’s blown down! Gee, but I’m sorry. I liked that tree;
it was such a plucky little old chap. And I suppose it was our fault,
too. We dug around the roots and weakened it.”

Bee walked across to where the apple tree lay on its side on the
sand, uprooted, its leaves already limp and withered. He viewed it
sorrowfully for a moment and then turned away to overtake the others.
As he did so his gaze encountered something which protruded from the
soil in the hole left by the uptorn tree. For a moment he stared
unbelievingly. Then, with a shout of triumph, he jumped into the
depression and when the others looked around he was half out of sight
and a perfect stream of sand was flying through the air! When Hal and
Jack, hurrying back, reached the scene Bee already uncovered one end
of an iron chest. “Quick!” he panted. “Get the shovels! I’ve found the
treasure!”

CHAPTER XXVII

Treasure Trove!

Jack ran for the shovels and in a moment, breathless and excited,
the three boys were laboring mightily, getting in each other’s way
and taking a quarter of an hour at least to do what might have been
accomplished calmly by one worker in ten minutes! But at last the chest
lay exposed. It was over two feet in length by some eighteen inches
wide and of about the same depth. It appeared to be made of sheet iron
and was reinforced on the edges. There was a handle at one end and
traces of one at the other. It was covered with red rust and as they
lifted it from the hole it threatened to fall to pieces in their hands.
There were two simple hasp locks in front, one near each end. The boys
laid the chest on the ground and looked at each other in triumph.

“I told you we’d find it!” exulted Bee, his eyes sparkling. “And we
have!”

“And it isn’t ours,” mourned Hal. “What do you suppose is in it? It
feels heavy enough!”

“I mean to find out,” responded Bee. “Let’s take it up to the tent,
fellows.”

“What’s the use?” asked Jack. “It isn’t ours. It belongs to Bill Glass
and we might as well dump it into the launch and take it to him.”

“That’s all right,” replied Bee doggedly, “but when I find hidden
treasure I have a look at it, no matter whose it is! And I mean to open
that chest and see what’s inside! It’s Bill Glass’s, but we found it
and we ought at least to have a look at it.”

Jack perhaps felt that Bee’s reasoning was faulty, but his own
curiosity was too strong to allow of much conviction in his tones when
he replied, “Well, we haven’t any business to open it, Bee, but――”

“Never mind the ‘buts’,” said Bee. “Where’s that pick? We’ll open it
right here and have a look. Then we’ll put it in the launch and hand it
over to Bill. Do you suppose there are jewels there, Jack? There must
be gold, because it’s so heavy!”

The point of the pick solved the locks in a twinkling. Hal and Jack
bent forward and Bee, after a moment of breathless hesitation, raised
the lid.

The first thing that met their eyes was a layer or covering of
yellow-brown material that turned out to be canvas, stained and rotted.
It fell to pieces as Bee tried to lift it aside, revealing a strange
hodge-podge of silver and silver-plate; oldfashioned butter-dishes,
castors, spoon-holders, sugar-bowls, knives, forks, spoons!

“What do you think of that!” gasped Hal.

Bee delved into the mass, scattering the things to the ground.
A watch-case minus the works――it might have been gold or only
gold-plate――rewarded his search, as did a gold brooch set with coral.
Then a small leather pouch, white with mold, secured with a leather
thong that broke when Bee strove to loosen it, tumbled out of a
sugar-bowl. Bee peered into the pouch and then inverted it. A number of
coins fell out.

“That’s more like it!” Bee muttered.

They were all of silver, dollars and fifty-cent pieces, and when they
were counted summed up to exactly twenty dollars. Bee tossed them back
into the pouch disappointedly and proceeded to empty the chest. A
ship’s clock was near the bottom, its brass green with verdigris, its
dial chipped and cracked, its old hands pointing to fourteen minutes
after seven.

“Now,” exclaimed Jack, “I’ll bet I know where Bill Glass got all those
things he has on his walls! He dug them up here on the island!”

“That’s just about it,” agreed Hal. “Whenever Old Verny found a chest
on a boat he just loaded it with this sort of truck and sunk it in the
ground somewhere and I suppose Bill has been digging them up for years!
It’s a bit of a sell on us, isn’t it?”

“No,” answered Bee, who, having reached the bottom of the chest without
discovering anything more valuable than the gold knob from a cane, was
now returning the articles. “We set out to look for a treasure chest
and we found it. I’m satisfied. Of course, it would have been more
interesting to have found diamonds and gold, but we did what we set
out to do. And Bill’s richer by twenty dollars――to say nothing of more
spoons and sugar bowls and such things than he will ever be able to
use!”

“He has probably been doing that for years,” mused Jack. “Maybe that’s
the way he’s lived. Whenever he got hard-up he took a shovel, dug
up a treasure chest and sold the contents! If that watch-case and
the cane head and the other thing are really gold Bill ought to make
about――about fifty or sixty dollars out of this lot. And that isn’t so
bad!”

“It must have kept Old Verny pretty busy burying things here,” said
Bee. “I wonder――” He paused and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully――“I
wonder, fellows, if this is _the_ treasure chest, the one he buried
when the officers came after him. I don’t believe it is! I believe that
chest is still here!”

Hal groaned. “For the love of mud, Bee, don’t tell me you’re going to
start all over again!”

Bee shook his head with a smile. “Not this summer, anyway, old Hal.
But――next year――perhaps! It’s pretty good sport, this treasure hunting,
but I’ve had enough for now and I’m ready to return to town and read
about it in stories for awhile. Come on; let’s get this down to the
launch and take it to Bill.”

When, twenty minutes later, they laid their find in front of the
half-open door of Bill Glass’s cabin and knocked, there was no
response. Jack pushed the door wide and they looked in. The cabin
was empty save for Benjamin Franklin. Benjamin sat amidst the dinner
dishes, blinking benignly in the sunlight. On the walls the fourteen
clocks tick-ticked noisily and the stuffed parrot studied them with
beady eyes. They laid the chest on a chair and Bee found a piece of
paper and wrote on it: “For Honest Bill Glass, with best wishes from
The Treasure Hunters Company, Ltd.” This he placed on the old chest and
they started out. Then――

“Ding, dong!” said a ship’s clock with a tenor voice.

“Ting, tang,” piped a clock with a soprano voice.

And then came all the others in a weird jumble of sound, and the boys
hurried out laughing, Bee with his hands over his ears.

“Two bells,” exclaimed Hal. “Why, it’s long after dinner time! Come on,
fellows; something calls me!”

So they tumbled back into the _Corsair_ and returned to the island for
their last dinner there. By three o’clock everything was bundled aboard
the sloop or the launch and they said good-bye to Nobody’s Island.

“We had a mighty good time there,” reflected Bee. “It wasn’t what you’d
call a fancy treasure island, but it was a good plain treasure island.
Something sort of tells me I’ll be back there some day, fellows.”

“If you are I’ll see that you don’t have a shovel with you!” muttered
Hal as he emptied the last drop of oil in the oil-can where it would
do the least possible good. Then the breeze caught the patched, gray
mainsail of the _Crystal Spring_ and the three boats rounded The
Clinker and Nobody’s Island was lost to sight.

Three weeks later, almost to an hour, the boys again sat in the cockpit
of the _Crystal Spring_. But what a different _Crystal Spring_ it
was! Amidship, an engine, gay in black enamel and brass, hummed and
purred and clicked. The mast had been freshly scraped and varnished,
the deck looked like new, the hull glistened like a raven’s wing and
an immaculate white mainsail lay furled along the boom under a creamy
canvas cover. No, you’d hardly have recognized the old sloop. There was
even a new pump, and instead of having to operate it by hand Jack need
merely uncouple the propeller shaft by the move of a lever, start the
engine and the pump would throw such a stream as would fill a tank in
almost no time!

Bee was returning home on the morrow and this meeting was in the nature
of a farewell gathering, although Jack was to accompany the boys back
to dinner later. The _Crystal Spring_, lazing along at three or four
miles an hour, was passing the entrance of the canal at the end of the
harbor when Jack suddenly moved the helm over and, reaching forward,
pulled the throttle wider.

“What is it?” asked Hal.

Jack pointed to where, a mile away, the snub-nosed lighthouse tender
was just moving into sight around the end of the breakwater.

“Hurrah!” cried Bee. “Hit her up, Jack!”

The _Crystal Spring_ dug her nose and pushed the water aside while
the engine hummed louder and faster. No one could liken the sloop’s
progress to the flight of an arrow, but what she lacked in grace she
made up for in power, and by the time she was half-way to Gull Island
she was slapping off a good seven miles! And just as they reached the
inner end of the island a buff cat-rigged boat under power hurried
forth from the basin.

“There she is!” whispered Hal. “Can you beat her, Jack?”

“Watch me,” answered Jack with a grim smile.

The _Morning Star_ had something of a start and her engine was buzzing
and her exhaust popping for all they were worth. But foot by foot the
old _Crystal Spring_ gained as they swept by the wharves. Along the
string-pieces idlers, sunning themselves, saw the race and shouted them
on. The government boat was slowing down to drop her anchor now.

“Open her up just a tiny bit more, Hal,” directed Jack softly. Hal
touched the throttle lever gently and the engine purred more quickly.
Then the bow of the sloop was even with the stern of her rival and
the Lampron brothers, gazing across, scowled angrily. Faster now the
_Crystal Spring_ swept through the water. The _Morning Star_ no longer
led; the sloop was even with her. And now the _Crystal Spring_ was
actually drawing away; there was clear water between them!

A little farther the _Morning Star_ held on, then the helm went over
and the rival water boat swung off her course, accepting defeat. In the
bow, at the wheel, Tony Lampron gazed after the _Crystal Spring_ and
shook his fist. Jack, seeing, smiled and seized a small megaphone from
its rack. As the _Morning Star_ headed back toward the basin Jack put
the megaphone to his mouth.

“Where you been some time, Mister?” he shouted.

                               THE END.

 Transcriber’s Notes:

 ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

 ――Obvious printer's, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were
   silently corrected.

 ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

 ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.