Mrs. Kimball could not answer. She was softly crying on the shoulder of Mrs. Robinson, Mr. Robinson, who had been trying to catch some crabs along shore, had his trousers rolled up. He was rather a disheveled figure as he stood there—in fact, none of the refugees appeared to sartorial advantage—but who minded that?
"Hurray!" yelled Mr. Robinson, waving, a piece of cloth on a stick—an improvised crab-net.
"Hurray! So you've come for the Robinson Crusoes; have you?"
"That's it!" shouted Jack, who was getting the small boat ready to go ashore.
"I thought we'd find them," spoke Lieutenant Walling.
"Oh, and we can't, thank you enough!" Cora murmured to him gratefully. "Only for you we might not have located the Ramona in a long time, and we night have been a month finding the folks. And you dear good girl!" she went on, putting her arms about Inez. "Next we are going to rescue your father."
"I shall be glad—mos' glad!" said the Spanish girl, softly.
Then they all went ashore, and brother and sisters were clasped in the arms of their loved ones.
"But how did it all happen?" asked Mr. Robinson. "How did you know where to look for us? Did the Ramona's crew repent, and send you for us? Tell us all about it! How are you, anyhow?"
He poured out a veritable flood of questions, which the girls, Jack, Walter and Lieutenant Walling tried to answer as best they could—the girls, it must be confessed, rather hysterically and tearfully.