"To send us all home?" guessed Bettie.
"Yes. A lot of men are coming this afternoon with a tug and a big flat scow to take the Whale home—I suspect she'll have to go to the factory for repairs. There'll be room on the scow for us and all our belongings besides. But cheer up. We won't need to start until along toward night."
"So this is our last day," mourned Jean.
"Dear me," sighed Bettie, "we'll never have so splendid a time again."
"We'll come again next summer," promised Mr. Black, "unless you get so young-ladyfied at your boarding school that you won't want to camp."
"You just wait and see," said Marjory.
"No danger," declared Henrietta.
"But," mourned Mabel, "we won't have any Billy Blue-eyes."
"Perhaps I'll get wrecked again," consoled Laddie, "and you can pick me up some more. But you'll forget all about me before next summer."
"I will not," contradicted Mabel. "I'm going to write to you."