As they stepped upon the porch a dark form arose from the steps. It was Beulah, who had been watching the surf. “Dat wahtah sutt’nly do bus’ up pretty,” was her remark as she followed the party into the house.
CHAPTER XX
FIDDLE AND I
The beautiful summer was over, and those in the cottage, which they had named “Spindrift,” must bid farewell to the rocks and waves, to the blueberry bushes and the sombre woods. The song sparrows had flown and the wild ducks had come. Cap’n Belah’s apples were gathered in, and the door of his house, which had stood wide open all summer, was now closed against the searching winds.
The little steamboat was now making but one trip a day. The young man who all summer had run a jitney, now had departed for larger fields, so those who wished to reach the wharf must “foot it,” as Cap’n Belah said. The sun had not been up very long when the party from “Spindrift” cottage started down the road, Reed and Tom carrying bags and suit-cases, and Beulah lumbering along in the rear, weighted down with bundles. As most of the summer visitors had left, there were but few to wave farewell as the little boat steamed off.
“But we’ll all come back next summer, won’t we?” said Mabel brightly as they turned a point which hid the island from view.
“I shall if I have to swim,” responded Tom.
“And I, too, if I have to walk,” Reed avowed.
“And I, if I have to hire an aëroplane,” Ellen said laughing.
“We can count on you, can’t we, Miss Rindy?” Mabel asked.