"And it's ten o'clock," I suggested.
"Eleven," said Jimmy.
"Twelve," thought Ed Mason.
"Our case is desperate," said Mr. Daddles, "but we'll pull through, somehow. Perhaps the Captain went treasure-hunting himself, and has got lost in the fog. This has been a busy little day. Now, let's see. I think I remember a woman up the road here, who used to let rooms, or—"
He broke off, and slapped the back which was nearest him,—it was mine.
"Well, Great Scott! That echo was right!"
"Why? What's the matter?"
"The idea of our standing here for a second, when there is a house, and maybe things to eat, and beds to sleep in, anyhow,—all waiting for us!"
"Where?"
"My uncle's, of course!"