Tuesday dawned clear and sunny, therefore proving Trixie’s statement to be true. The merry party set out directly after lunch as Mrs. Remington remarked that the Boston boat was very early at odd times—especially so, if one happened to be a little late.
The Medric’s engine helped her “buck” the tide while Bill remarked, “We sure have got a favourable puff!”
It was almost low water when they reached the wharf and the Medric had to be anchored off the landing while her passengers were set ashore in the tender.
The moment feet were on terra firma, the owners started for the post office and general store where candy and cake were sold; but, on the way a tin-typer’s caravan was found resting by the side of the main road from the wharf, and the diversion was invaded and well patronised that day.
The meagre delights of the Camp Ground were soon exhausted and time hung heavily upon the hands of the active Islanders. Then Mrs. Remington announced that the Boston steamer would be an hour late that day.
“Oh, why did we leave our happy home?” wailed Billy.
“Think of all the fun we are missing!” added Paul.
“There are certain joys in a lingering farewell but I say that some of them are drawn out much too long!” remarked Fred.
“How! how!” laughed the other boys, and Mrs. Remington joined even at the expense of her own feelings.
“The question still remains before us—what to do with this extra hour the gods bestowed?” mourned Elizabeth, who had had visions of Rosemary in the sunset glow.