hile
I was vexing myself about the blunder I had made, the waters were
rippled by a gentle breeze. I sprang forward and hauled up the anchor
with a celerity that was worthy of the occasion. The mainsail was still
up, and taking the helm, I ran the yacht up the lagoon. I could just
see the outline of the Florina in the gloom, and a few puffs of wind
carried us up to her.

There was a light in the cabin of the Florina, and both the tenders
were alongside. Mr. Whippleton had not gone yet, whatever he intended
to do, and I breathed freely again.

"Gorrificious!" shouted Peter from the deck of the Florina. "Where you
goin' now?"

"Stand by to catch a line," I replied.

"All ready; heave the line," added the cook.

In a moment we were fast to the other yacht, and I firmly determined
not to lose sight of Mr. Whippleton again, under any circumstances. We
had hardly made fast before the wind died out again. It was only a puff
which had come to my aid, as it were providentially, and had enabled me
to gain my point. I had noticed, when Mr. Whippleton left the Florina,
that he took with him the leather bag, which contained his money and
valuable papers; but I had thought nothing of the circumstance at the
time, for it seemed to me quite natural that he should be very careful
of an article of so much value. If that providential puff of air had
not enabled me to throw the Marian alongside his yacht, I am satisfied,
in the light of subsequent events, that he would have made an attempt
to elude me. He could have gone on shore in the tender, lived in the
woods, or at the cabin of some settler, for a week or more, until I was
tired of waiting for him, and then taken to his yacht, and escaped by
the way of Canada.

"What are you doing up here, Phil?" shouted the subject of all my
anxious solicitude, as he came out of the cabin of the Florina.

"We had a little breeze, and I came up to save you the trouble of
rowing," I replied.

"You have a talent for making blunders, Phil," growled he, in a tone
which did much to confirm my suspicions.

"Not a bad blunder, since I am safe here," I replied.

"You might have run her aground, and we should have had to leave her
here all summer. Don't you know any better than to run about in the
night where you are not acquainted? Is that the way you use other
people's boats?"

"The Marian is still afloat, and safe. Do you want any help?"

"No; no such help as you can give. You can't do anyth