"A loon is supposed to be a crazy sort of a bird," went on Betty, "and, come to think of it, that poor chap didn't look very bright. Maybe he was half-witted, and that's why they called him The Loon."
"Well, he knew enough to shoot the manatee, and get our boat for us," defended Grace. "I don't think he was very stupid."
"Oh, I don't mean it that way," said Betty quickly. "I only suggested that perhaps those mean men—I'm sure they were mean—might have called him that to suit their own purposes. But I think we are well rid of them, anyhow. Here comes Mr. Hammond, and that must be Tom with him," and she indicated two figures approaching.
"Oh, are you going to call him Tom?" gasped Grace.
"I don't see why not," was the calm answer. "He looks just like the sort of a nice young chap whom one would call Tom."
"Betty Nelson!" cried Mollie. "I'm going to tell——"
"Hush!" commanded the Little Captain, quickly. "I haven't done it yet."
Mr. Hammond presented the young man, who seemed quite at his ease under the scrutiny of four pairs of eyes—pretty eyes, all of them, too.
"You needn't worry when Tom is along," said the overseer with a laugh, as he named each of the girls in turn. "Now go off and have a good time. I depend on you, Tom, to bring them safely back."
"I will, Mr. Hammond. Are you ready, young ladies?" and he smiled at them.