“Yes, I’m safe, Papa!” cried Rose. “Tom has saved me.”
In a few minutes Rose was in her father’s arms, and he was hugging and kissing her, calling her by all her pet baby names. Mr. Smith was shaking hands with Tom, who looked dazed.
“I’m proud to know you, Tom,” he said. “You are a regular sea-dog, my boy. We must have you over to the hotel to help us with the boats there.”
“Tom, my lad,” said Mr. Thornton, as he started to carry Rose up to the cottage, where her sprained ankle could be cared for, “I’ll never forget this. Boys,” he added, turning to Charlie and Kenneth, who stood eagerly looking on, “if you want to see what a real hero looks like, there he is. You had better write it down in your pirate log-book that one of your band saved a little girl’s life. That is something for you to boast of, indeed.”
“I must go home and get dry,” muttered Tom, turning away much embarrassed. After all, he was an outlaw, and he knew that Mr. Smith understood why, though Mr. Thornton might not. Tom did not belong to the pirate band any more. But when he turned shamefacedly away, Kenneth and Charlie came running up, and each seized him by the hand.
“Tom, old fellow, we are proud of you!” said Kenneth heartily.
“Tom,” said Charlie, taking something out of his pocket, “here is my pirate knife. You have got to be captain now. You are the best of us all, as Uncle Jack says.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Kenneth, dancing up and down. “We have a real live hero for our captain, and we will do great things!”
“Oh, pshaw!” said Tom, turning red but looking pleased. He saw that they no longer thought him an outlaw. “I don’t want to be captain,” he protested.
“You must, you must!” cried Charlie and Kenneth. “Mustn’t he, Mr. Smith?”