"I can take these kids better alone, Arch," said Will, taking Eunice like a baby.
"I'll take Cricket," said Archie.
"No, you won't, sir, not one step," said that young lady, sitting down, resolutely. "I know you. I'd find myself in a crab hole in about a minute. I'll wait for Will."
"Come on, Hilda, then. That's a base libel, you know."
But it ended by Will's carrying them all in.
"There are drawbacks to being so popular," said Will, setting down Edna, who was the last, and wiping his face.
A lighthouse is always an interesting place to visit, and many times as the Somers children had been there, they always enjoyed the trip. Cricket and Eunice had never been there but three or four times before. The good-natured keeper took them all over and showed them everything, from the twin-lights at the top to the life-boats, for Hilda's benefit.
When they had seen everything that was to be seen they went down to the shore again, to reëmbark. It was easier getting back, for the boys made a lady's chair for each passenger, and together carried her safely over the shallows, where the water was beginning to rise. They sailed outside the bar for a short distance, and then it was time to eat their luncheon.
The luncheon was a royal banquet in point of plenty and variety, for Mrs. Maxwell's old cook knew, by long experience, just what sort of appetites the salt air made, and there were seven hungry mouths to feed. They feasted and chattered, until Auntie Jean suddenly announced that it was time to turn about, and go in.
"It's too early," said Edna.