the Captain.

"'Thank you kindly, sir, she said,'" replied Hinpoha. But she was
pleased with the compliment, nevertheless, because she knew it was
sincere. The Captain never said anything he did not mean.

They sat there drifting back and forth with the current for several
hours, and then suddenly there was a break in the white curtain and two
bright eyes looked down at them from above. "It's the Twins!" cried
Hinpoha delightedly. "The Sailors' Stars. They have come to guide us
back. Don't you remember, they're always directly in front of us when we
come home from St. Pierre in the evening."

The fog was breaking and drifting away before a fresh breeze which had
sprung up and first one star and then another came into view. Soon they
could see a bright red light in the distance and knew it was a signal
fire, which the folks on Ellen's Isle had built to guide them. Hinpoha
held her little bug light down while the Captain searched for the
trouble in the launch engine and he was not long in discovering that it
was nothing serious. A few pokes in her vitals and the launch began
chugging again.

The whole family was lined up on the beach awaiting their arrival and
they were welcomed back as though they had been gone a year. It was
nearly nine o'clock. They had been out on the lake more than four hours.

"Stop hugging Hinpoha, Gladys," bade her mother, "and let her eat
something. Those blessed children must be nearly starved."

This was not quite true, because they had eaten the two quarts of
peanuts and the half dozen lollypops originally consigned to the camp,
which had saved them from starving very nicely.

The clearing wind, which had dispelled the fog, came from the north and
blew colder and colder as the night wore on. In the morning the Captain
woke stiff and chilled and with a very sore throat. "I'm all right," he
protested when Aunt Clara came in to administer remedies, but his voice
was a mere croak. Aunt Clara felt of his head and found a high fever.
She promptly ordered him to stay in bed and set herself to the task of
breaking up the cold. Hinpoha wandered around distracted all day.

"It was my fault, all my fault," she wailed. "If I had only had sense
enough to take my sweater he wouldn't have made me take his coat. Is he
very sick, Aunt Clara?"

By night the Captain was very much worse. He had developed a bad case of
bronchitis and his breath rattled ominously.

Hinpoha, crouching anxiously at the foo