"It seems reasonable. At least, I shall make a report as soon as we get away from the island. And the old woman should be watched, too."
"Indeed she should!" cried Whistler. "What do you suppose she meant, Mr. MacMasters, about our Kennebunk being sunk?"
"The speech was fathered by the wish, perhaps."
"But she seemed so certain—so assured," murmured Whistler.
He was not satisfied by this explanation of Mr. MacMasters, and was silent all the way back to Mag's cabin. They came in sight of the place just as the men poured out of the cabin in great excitement.
"What do you suppose is the matter with them now?" demanded the ensign.
But he spied the cause of the excitement as soon as Whistler did. Crossing the sound was a swift revenue cutter, and one of the seamen, under direction from Mr. Mudge, leaped upon a bowlder and began to signal, semaphore fashion.
The signals were returned and the cutter swung in shoreward and soon dropped a boat for the castaways. The shipwrecked seamen from the Kennebunk swarmed down to the strand.
Mr. MacMasters whispered to Whistler that they would have their breakfast aboard the Coast Guard boat. Then he went to the scowling old woman who, after all, had been a most hospitable hostess. Some of the sailors had given her money in small sums; but the ensign forced her to accept an amount that he thought generous payment for what she had done for them, and Mag seemed to agree.
"Yo' Yankees air free-handed already," she drawled. "But that won't save you, Mr. Officer, from the trouble that's heaped up for you-uns."