Billy grinned and admitted that there might be some reason for that appearance.
Getting acquainted with Sally was as rapid a process as had been getting acquainted with Captain Saulsby. The tall glass of cold milk and the plate of fresh gingerbread certainly put an end to any formalities between them, and the expedition down to the hen-house to see the new brood of deliciously round, fat ducklings carried them far on the road toward friendship. Billy thought that the ducks looked rather like Sally herself, they were so small and fat and yellow and so very sure of themselves, but he did not summon courage to say so. Next, they went down to the pier to see, “the biggest big fish you ever saw, that my father brought in last night.”
This, Billy felt, was more worth showing him than were mere ducklings, but he did not admit being impressed by the size of the fish, although in truth it was a monster, nearly as long as the dory that held it. He stood passing his hand over the slippery surface of its silver scales and listening to the thrilling tale of its capture, recounted by Sally with as much spirit as though she herself had been present. She broke off in the middle of her story, however, to exclaim:
“Gracious, I’m keeping you here until maybe the tide will be over the causeway and you can’t get back. That would never do!” They hurried up to the house, gathered the berry boxes together in haste, and went toward the gate.
“I’ll not forgive myself if I have made you miss the tide,” Sally said. “I think I will walk with you as far as the creek to make sure.”
She chattered continuously as they went down the wooded lane, telling him what the different flowers and birds were, what games she and her brother played there among the trees, where her father’s land ended, and where Captain Saulsby’s began.
“The Captain owns almost all of this end of the Island,” she said. “His father or maybe his grandfather built the mill and used to run it. There were grain fields over most of Appledore then, and people farmed more and fished less. Captain Saulsby doesn’t do anything with the land except the little piece his house is on; he has not really lived here a great many years. He ran away when he was a boy and sailed all over the world, and only came back to settle down when he got too old to go to sea.”
Her talk did not remain long on the subject of the Captain, however, but presently, in response to a question of Billy’s, wandered away to Johann Happs.
“Yes, I know him, and I like him too. He comes every so often to fix our clocks, mend the locks and things that won’t work, sharpen up the tools and put us in order generally. He’s so cheerful and honest: there’s not a person on the Island that doesn’t admire Joe and trust him.”
Billy shook his head silently; he could make nothing, so far, of this strange affair of Johann Happs. He had not time to reflect on the puzzle long, for presently they met some one coming down the lane toward them.