As they neared cool, wind-swept Nantucket, Mr. Dunstan came forward once more, to point out the direction of his own place. This lay on the west side of the island. As they ran in closer the owner pointed out the mouth of a cove.
“We’ve come over in two hours,” announced Mr. Dunstan, consulting his watch as they neared the cove.
“Now that we understand the boat and the engine,” answered Tom, “we ought to go over the course in less than an hour and a half.”
“Fine!” pronounced the owner. “That’s what the boat was built for. Do that and I can make the trip to my Boston offices every week day—if I decide that it’s best to do so.”
Tom noted a certain hesitancy about those last few words. Again he felt sure that some mystery threatened the owner’s peace of mind.
Into the cove and up alongside the pier the “Meteor” was run. From here large and handsome grounds and a huge white house, the latter well back from the water, were visible.
“We’ll leave Bouncer on board for the present,” said Mr. Dunstan. “I’ll take you up to the house so you can get used to the place. By and by we’ll have lunch. And I want to show you my boy, Ted.”
CHAPTER III—THE LUCKIEST BOY IN THE WORLD
Hardly had Mr. Dunstan’s new boat crew followed him ashore when a whooping yell sounded from up the road that led to the house. Then into sight dashed a boy mounted on a pony. On they came at a full gallop, the boy reining up with a jerk when barely six feet from his father.
“Careful, Ted!” warned Mr. Dunstan laughingly. “Don’t ride me down. You’re not yet through with your use for a father, you know.”