ay flannel coat and tossed it to Jerry, and
Jerry did put it on and ran after him, tucking up the sleeves. I saw
them get into the dinghy and row back to the boat, and I said:

"Oh, Gregs, we're going home, we're going home!" and we both cried a
little.

They came back after what seemed a long time, and our man said:

"While I'm fixing Gregory, you and Gerald tackle this."

It was half a loaf of bread and some potted beef done up in oiled
paper, and I'm sure Jerry ate the oiled paper, too. I'd heard of
starving people falling on food and rending it savagely, but I never
knew exactly what rending was until we did it to the bread. We gave
some of it to Greg, too, while our man was fixing him.

I never saw any one before who could do things so fast and so
gently. He had nice, brown, quick hands, and he looked so grown up
and useful. He'd brought a roll of bandage stuff--the kind with a
blue wrapper that you keep in First Aid kits--and a book that had
"Coast Pilot Guide and Harbor Entrances of New England" on the
cover. I didn't see what he could want that for, except on the boat,
till he put it under Greg's armpit and bandaged his arm across it to
keep it steady. The white waistcoat was in our man's way, so he
ripped it down the side and got it off entirely.

"I was an explorer," Greg explained shakily.

"He was Baroo, the Madagascar cabin-boy," Jerry said, gnawing the
loaf, and I thought it seemed years ago that we had _trekked_ across
Wecanicut.

"I see," said our man, in his nice, kind, reliable way, and then he
said to Greg, "I didn't hurt you much, did I, old fellow?"

And Greg shook his head, and said:

"Thank you for coming."

That was what we all felt, but none of us had put it so simply
before.

"What's this?" the man said, as he was gathering up the rest of the
bandages.

It was the Simpson-thing, and it did look very funny by daylight, I
must say,--just a wob of blue flannel tied with a string. I was
going to explain, but Jerry said, with his mouth full:

"Oh, just something we had," and stuffed it away in the kit-bag. He
was quite red. Boys are funny sometimes.

"Now," said our man, "comes the embarkation, and I'm afraid I'll
have to hurt you a little, Greg."

He picked Greg up in one swinging swoop, and I wished that Jerry and
I had been strong enough to do that last night. Greg had only time
for one gasp before he was quite comfortable against our man's
shoulder. But he _was_ brave, beca