t and
sent a shower of pink "gum-drops" raining down over the deck, and the
whole boat was turned into a mad and joyful riot!

Roderick lingered about for a few minutes until Miss Murray nodded and
smiled to him across a surging sea of little heads, then he wandered
down below to where the Ancient Mariner was seated spinning yarns to a
crowd of young people.

"Indeed and I could tell you many as good a one as that," he was saying
in response to the sighs of amazement. "I haff a great head for the
tales. If I would jist be hafing the grammar I would challenge anybody
to beat me at them. Take Scott now. He had the grammar. That's what
makes folk think his stories are so great. But if I had just had his
chance! You get an eddication, you young people. There's nothing like
the grammar indeed!"

Roderick leaned over the little pit of the engine room and talked with
Young Peter. The dull eyes were shining. This was a great day for
Peter.

"Did you see him?" he whispered to Roderick. "Did you see my father?
driving down with your father? Jist like any gentleman! Eh, but it
was mighty."

"Yes, it's splendid to see them together at last, Pete," said Roderick
sympathetically. And then he had to listen again to the tale Young
Peter never tired telling, how Rod's father had saved his father that
stormy night on the Jericho Road. How Lawyer Ed could not sleep
because Roderick had left him, and how he had driven out to the farm in
the night to comfort Angus and had found the two on the road nearly
frozen! Young Peter had an attentive listener, for Roderick could not
tire of hearing the wonderful story.

They had passed through the Gates, and the news went around that the
Island was near. It was a beautiful big stretch of green with a
sloping shingly beach at one end, and a high range of white cliffs at
the other, which J. P. Thornton said made him homesick, for they always
reminded him of England.

There were many islands in Lake Algonquin; nevertheless when you said
The Island every one knew you meant that big, lovely, grassy place away
out beyond the Gates, swept by the cool breezes of Lake Simcoe where
Algonquin always went for her picnics.

When the cry went forth that the Island was at hand every one ran to
the railing and leaned over to watch the _Inverness_ slip in between
the big stone breakwater and the dock which stretched out to meet them.
Captain Jimmie from his wheel-house called to them, thre