Mollie.

"Oh, yes, once in a while, but not what you could rightly call treasure.
Once a banana steamer got on the bar, and they had to throw over lots of
cargo to lighten her. Folks here made quite a tidy sum collectin' them
bunches of green bananas."

"But no boxes of gold or diamonds--mysterious, locked boxes?" asked Amy,
still hopefully.

"No, miss, nothin' like that," and Old Tin-Back looked as though he was
not altogether sure whether or not he was being made fun of.

The days passed at Ocean View, sunny, happy days. Each one brought new
pleasure and delight to the outdoor girls, and they lived up to their
name, for they were seldom in the house. They bathed and rowed in the
bay, or paid visits to the quaint little town, where Grace discovered an
old French woman who made delicious taffy.

"So Grace's happiness is assured for the summer," declared Mollie.

Then came a day when, as the four went down to see Old Tin-Back set off
from the little dock in his dory to take up his lobster pots, they saw a
motor boat heading into the bay.

"Oh, if that should be the boys!" exclaimed Grace, hopefully. "They
wrote they might come this week; didn't they?"

"Yes," answered Betty.

"What boat ye lookin' fer?" asked Tin-Back.

"The _Pocohontas_," answered Amy.

The old lobsterman peered through a battered spyglass he took from a
locker-box in his dory.

"That's her," he announced.

And so it proved. The big motor boat swung up to the dock and Will, Roy,
Henry and Allen smiled at the girls.

"Well, we're here, you see!" announced Grace's brother. "This is the
first real stop of our cruise. Been having a fine time these last five
days. But we're glad we're here."

"And we're glad to see you!" responded Betty. "Do come up to the
cottage. Mamma will want to see you. How long can you stay?"

"Oh, a week--two weeks--a month in a place like this with--ahem! such
nice girls!" remarked Roy.

"Oh, what's that? You scratched me!" exclaimed Grace as she suffered her
brother to imprint a sort of half-way kiss on her cheek. His coat blew
open, disclosing something shining through an armhole of his vest.

"Oh, that's my--badge!" he announced.

"Your badge? What are you, a pilot?" demanded Amy.

"Ahem! At your service!" exclaimed Will, with a low bow, as he extended
a card to his sister. Grace fairly grabbed it from him, and read her
brother's name, while, in a corner of the pasteboard, under a monogram
device, were t