he laughed, as she said: "There's one thing everyone
knows, and that is that when Max and Gwen are together, they're sure
to get into mischief. No one ever spends a minute wondering about
that, because they _know_."

She ran the boat into shallow water, made it fast to a pile that had
been placed there for the purpose, tying the rope through the iron
ring on the post. Then she stepped over the side of the boat into the
water, and waded ashore. She wrung the water from her skirt, took off
her shoes and emptied the water from them, and then ran up the beach
toward home.

She opened the door and ran in.

The Captain would be out on the fishing trip all day, and it was
evident that Mrs. Seaford had not yet returned from her trip to the
store.

Sprite changed her drenched bathing suit for dry clothing, and hung
the skirt and blouse up to dry.

She wondered why it was that she kept thinking of Max and his little
book.

CHAPTER X

THE SHIP COMES IN

It had been a warm, sunny day, the little waves had danced gaily, and
the beach had been dazzling in the full glare of noonday, but the
afternoon had been cooler, and at twilight the wind had changed from
its warm quarter, to Northeast.

Snug and warm in the "Syren's Cave," they heard the wind rising until
it became an actual gale.

The Captain had built a fire of drift wood, the squatty lamp on the
table gave out a yellow glare, and around the table sat the three
members of the family, the cat occupying the tiny rug in front of the
fire. Puss purred contentedly, blinking when the sparks snapped and
twinkled.

Sprite bent over a fascinating book of fairy tales. The pictures were
charming, the stories held her captive.

Usually she enjoyed playing with puss in front of the fire, saving her
book for stormy days, but she had opened the book to look at the
softly tinted pictures, and the first story that held her attention
was the "Tale of the Gold Children," and she became so interested in
their travels in search of their fortunes and of each other, that she
could not put the book aside.

Her waving hair fell about her shoulders as she read, and the light
from the big lamp shimmered upon it.

Mrs. Seaford, busy with her sewing, paused at times to look at the
child absorbed in her book.

Captain Seaford, in a big arm chair, reading the "Cliffmore News,"
looked exceedingly comfortable, but his wife knew that while he held
the paper before him, he was merel