He grabbed Tess and Dot, one in the crook of each arm, and kissed them soundly as he raised them to his shoulders. Mr. Howbridge exclaimed over the lost children, too, and afterward Dot told Tess that she had no idea their guardian “could cry.”
There was reason for Mr. Howbridge shedding a few tears over the recovery of the smallest Kenways. The stranding of the Isobel on this island in safety had been a miracle indeed. A hundred untoward things might have happened to the children.
A little after nightfall the boys and Mr. Howbridge had worked their raft into the shallow cove where the motor-boat lay and had landed. Looking for Tess and Dot in the dark of the tropical night was almost a hopeless task.
By chance Neale had heard Dot’s shriek when she had been frightened by the marine monster in the pool. Charging across the island, he had led the way to the small sisters.
That night, about the fire on the shore, was a cheerful one indeed for the boys and the lawyer while the little girls slept soundly. Their discovery and recovery of Tess and Dot by the trio of searchers had been easier than they had hoped in their most sanguine moments.
“And Ruth will certainly be a happy girl again,” Luke often repeated.
“Hope we can get back to them soon,” Neale rejoined.
“Wish we could signal to them that the children are found,” ruminated Luke.
The nearest they could do in the matter of signaling was to take down Tess’ plaid skirt from the top of the palm tree the next morning. This Neale did after a while, and he praised Tess for thinking of putting up the skirt in the first place.
“If I finally decide to spend the rest of my life on a desert island, Tessie,” Neale said soberly, “I’ll take you along as a partner.”