"An' father an' mother an' Bessie can go t' th' mail boat with us," spoke up Emily, from her couch. "Oh, 'twill be fine t' have you all go t' th' mail boat with me!"

And so this arrangement was made and carried out. On the appointed day every one was aboard the Maid of the North, and with light hearts the voyage was begun.

Two days later they reached Fort Pelican, when Netseksoak and Aluktook went ashore to await the arrival of the ship that was to take them to their far northern home, and Bob said good-bye to the two faithful friends with whom he had braved so many dangers and suffered so many hardships.

The following morning the mail boat steamed in, and Emily was transferred to her in charge of the doctor, who greeted her kindly and promised,

"You'll be going home a new girl in the fall, and your father and mother won't know you."

Nevertheless the parting from her friends was very hard for Emily, and the mother and child, and Bessie too, shed a good many tears, though the fact that she was to see Bob in a little while in St. Johns comforted Emily somewhat.

When the mail boat was finally gone, Richard Gray, with his wife and Bessie, turned homeward in their dory, which had been brought down in tow of the Maid of the North, and the schooner spread her sails to the breeze and passed to the southward.

With some delays caused by bad weather, three weeks elapsed before the Maid of the North one day, late in July, sailed through the narrows past the towering cliffs of Signal Hill, and anchored in the land-locked harbour of St. Johns.

In the interim the mail boat had made another voyage to the north, and brought back with her Captain Hanks and his crew, who had worked their way to Indian Harbour in their open boat to await the steamer there. Of course Skipper Sam had heard that Bob was coming with the Maid of the North, and when the schooner finally reached her anchorage he was on the lookout for her, and at once came aboard with much blustering, to demand her immediate delivery. He believed he had some unsophisticated livyeres to deal with, whom he could easily browbeat out of their rights. What was his surprise, then, when Douglas stepped forward, and said very authoritatively:

"Bide a bit, now, skipper. When 'tis decided how much salvage you pays th' lad, an' after you pays un, you'll be havin' th' schooner an' her cargo, an' not till then."