d to himself, as Uncle Terry pulled the dory out of the
harbor and up the coast towards where he had been left stranded; "and
what eyes, and what a perfect form!"
Then, as good luck would have it, when they rounded a point, there was
the "Gypsy" following the island shore down to meet them. Albert stood
up and waved his cap. He was answered by the whistle, and in an instant
every one on board of her, even the crew, were out on her bows and
waving caps lustily. The skipper kept the whistle blowing, and as the
yacht slowed down and Uncle Terry pulled alongside, Albert was seized
and almost dragged on board. Frank was so overjoyed he hugged him, and
then gave vent to a war-whoop that might have been heard the entire
length of Southport Island.
"We guessed what had happened to you," he said, "when we picked up your
boat. It was almost dark when one of the crew saw an empty boat floating
up the bay. We were all down in the cabin at that time, and had not
noticed how late it was, when he called us. Two of the crew lowered the
other boat, and when they got back with yours we nearly had a fit. The
missing cushions and loop on the painter gave us a clue, and we half
expected you would find your way back to the 'Gypsy' by land."
"I guess you're not much acquainted with the interior of Southport
Island," put in Albert; and then going forward he brought back Uncle
Terry, and introduced him to the crowd. By this time the "Gypsy" was
almost down to the Cape, and under one bell, and the direction of Uncle
Terry, she slowly steamed in. That worthy man had been looking over her,
and his admiration was evident.
"A purty slick craft, boys," he said to the party, as the "Gypsy's"
anchor ceased rattling out of the hawse-hole,--"a purty slick craft, an'
must 'a' cost a heap o' money."
Then as he pulled his own weather-beaten dory that had been towing
astern along to the gangway, Albert stepped up to him and said in a low
voice:
"Will you excuse me a little while, Mr. Terry? I want to change my
clothes, and in an hour or so I will come ashore, and not only thank
you for all your kindness, but make you a visit."
When Uncle Terry had gone Albert related his experiences for the past
eighteen hours to the party--that is, all but one incident, or rather
surprise, and that he omitted for reasons best known to himself. Then
nothing would do but they must all go ashore, and look the quaint little
village over.
"I wish you would keep
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