“I don’t see why you shouldn’t do that,” Mrs. Dore accorded them thoughtfully.
“And as for me, I’ll be glad to be well rid of the craythur,” Granny said shudderingly.
So it was settled. After luncheon, the three boys went down to the Magic Mirror, hauled the poor awkward beast out of the water; pulled it along the trail to the barn. They loaded it into the lunch hamper again; stowed it in the automobile; and then Zeke drove them to the beach.
Once there, they lifted the hamper out of the machine, removed the cover and dumped its living contents onto the sand.
There was no question as to the turtle’s wishes in this matter. Without an instant’s hesitation, he turned in the direction of the ocean; and lumbered toward it over the sand—lumbered awkwardly but with a surprising swiftness. The waves were piling in, like great ridges of melted glass, green edged with shining, opalescent filigree. They shattered themselves on the sand and seemed miraculously to turn into great fans of green emerald trimmed with pearl-colored, foam lace.
The turtle struck the broken wave ... swam into it ... dove through the next wave ... and the next ... and the next.... Suddenly they lost sight of him.
When they returned, still unnaturally quiet, to the Little House, to their great surprise Billy Potter came forward to meet them.
Their subdued spirits took an involuntary jump. Nevertheless they greeted their guest in an unusually quiet way. Billy’s perceptions, always keen, apparently leaped in an instant of calculation to the truth. After a while, in which he devoted himself to the Little Six, he suggested that the Big Six take a walk with him. They accepted the invitation with alacrity and plunged into the woods.
When they were out of sight of the Little House, “Now what’s the matter?” Billy Potter suddenly demanded.
They told him; all at once; each interrupting the other, piling on excuses and explanations; interrupted with confessions and self-accusals.