“Very entertaining, indeed,” the elderly woman remarked, as she settled back among the pillows, and there was nothing for Dories to do but read one hair-raising tale after another. Often she glanced at her wrist-watch. It was almost noon. Why didn’t Nann come?
CHAPTER XII.
A BLEACHED SKELETON
When Gibralter saw Nann crossing the wide beach that was shimmering in the light of the early morning sun, he turned the punt boat and sailed as close to the point of rocks as he dared go. Then, letting the sail flap, he took the oars and was soon alongside a large flat boulder which, at low tide, was uncovered, although an occasional wave did wash over it.
“Quick! Watch whar ye step,” he cautioned. “Thar now. Here’s yer chance. Heave ho.” Then he added admiringly as the girl stepped into the middle of the punt without losing her balance, “Bully fer you. That’s as steady as a boy could have done it. Whar’s the other gal? Was she skeered to come?”
Nann seated herself on the wide stern seat of the flat-bottomed boat before she replied. “Dori wanted to come just ever so much, but she thought that she ought to stay at home this morning and read to her Great-Aunt Jane.”
“Wall, I don’t envy her none,” the lad said as he stood up to push the boat away from the rocks. “That ol’ Miss Moore is sure sartin the crabbiest sort o’ a person seems like to me.” Then as he sat on the gunnel and pulled on the sheet, he added, beaming at the girl, “Say, Miss Nann, are ye game to sail over clost to the island yonder? Like’s not we’d find the skeleton o’ The Phantom Yacht if it got wrecked thar, as Pa thinks mabbe it did.”
“Oh, Gib,” the girl’s voice expressed real concern, “I do hope that beautiful snow-white yacht was not wrecked. I don’t believe that it was. I feel sure that those sailors took it safely back across the sea with that poor heart-broken mother and the boy who was such a handsome little chap, and the wee gold and white girl whom your daddy said looked like a lily. Honestly, Gib, I’d almost rather not sail over to that cruel island where so many boats have gone down. If the Phantom Yacht is there, I’d rather not know it. I’d heaps rather believe that it is still sailing, perhaps on the blue, blue waters of the Mediterranean.”
The boy looked his disappointment. “I say, Miss Nann,” he pleaded, “come on, say you’ll go, just this onct. I’m powerful curious to see what the shoals look like. I’ve been savin’ and savin’ for ever so long to buy this here punt boat jest so’s I could cruise around over thar. Miss Nann, won’t you go?”
The girl laughed. “Gibralter, you look the picture of distress. I just can’t be hard-hearted enough to disappoint you. If you’ll promise not to wreck me, I’ll consent to go at least near enough to see just what the island looks like.”
With that promise the boy had to be content. A brisk breeze was blowing from the land and so, before very long, the two and a half miles that lay between the shore and the outer shoals were covered and the long gaunt island of jagged gray rocks loomed large before them.