“Come, come—we must get back now!” And Mr. Remington soon had his convoy arranged and the launch chugged away for Isola Bella wharf where it left Benton and his party the richer by several fine haddocks.
The Sunset Islanders reached the float-stage just before the fog shut them in.
“Make up a good fire in the bungalow,” said Mrs. Remington to Billy and Dudley. “And every one see that the tent-flaps are close shut to keep out as much of this dampness as possible.”
The novelty of the fog was at first delightful to the younger boys but when they realised that they were forbidden to even get into a boat while the treacherous white veil covered the island, they revised their judgment.
Elizabeth was a little aggrieved, too. “Just think, Uncle Tom and Aunt Edith will arrive in the morning and I wanted to go over to Rosemary to meet them. Now, this old fog will probably last two or three days.”
And so it proved. On account of this white barrier the Captain alone took Mr. Remington to Rosemary, Uncle Tom’s summer home on the mainland below Saturday Cove. From there, the Charlton’s motor conveyed the now transformed Islander to the New York express train at Rockland.
The only blight on the camper’s joy in Maine was the necessity for “business fathers” to leave their families there and return to the hot city. But often, an extra week-end was tucked in by both Mr. Remington and Mr. Farwell. Fate seemed to so arrange it however, that both men were rarely on their respective islands simultaneously. Uncle Tom Charlton was more fortunate as his business allowed him a long continuous vacation which he always enjoyed to the utmost.
“Captain,” said he to the returning launch-man, “as soon as this fog clears, we’ll be over to see you all. Tell Fred that two young college boys are going to be my guests for the week-end and I want them to get a taste of salt-water. They are from Georgia and while they are out-of-doors fellows they have always lived inland.”
This message was received with interest by Fred and the other campers and the fog was again appropriately consigned to “Halifax.”
“Never mind,” consoled Mrs. Remington; “use this enforced curtailment of your liberty by doing some listing up of your Woodcraft work.”