“You won’t put the ad in the paper then, will you?” his wife asked as he started off.
“No,” he said, stooping down to pat the little boy’s dark head. “I’ll give Billie a chance to clear up her mystery first.” And with a smile at Billie he swung off down the walk while with quickened hearts the girls and Mrs. Danvers watched him go.
Suddenly the little fellow got up from the hollow in the sand where he and his sisters had been making sand pies and ran up to Billie, waving his shovel excitedly.
“Him goin’ 'way?” he asked, pointing down the beach toward Mr. Danvers.
“Yes. But he’s coming back,” said Billie, catching the little fellow up and kissing his soft rosy cheek. Then she looked at the girls and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, girls,” she cried, “I don’t see how I’m going to give him up!”
Then followed days of anxious waiting for the girls. Every night when the mail came in on the Mary Ann they were at the dock to meet it. But though they searched for a letter postmarked Molata with eager eyes, day after day went by and still there was no word from Miss Arbuckle.
This state of affairs continued for over a week until the girls had begun to give up in despair. And then one night it came—the letter they had been waiting for.
They did not wait to get home, but sat down on the edge of the dock while Billie read it aloud.
The letter was such a mixture of joy and hope and fear that sometimes the girls had hard work making anything out of it. However, this much was clear: Miss Arbuckle intended to leave Molata Friday night—and this was Friday night—and would probably be at Lighthouse Island Saturday morning. And to-morrow was Saturday!
“She says,” Billie finished, her voice trembling with excitement, “that the reason she didn’t write to us before was because she was out of town and didn’t receive my letter for almost a week after it reached Three Towers Hall. She says——”