The ground swell lulled the girls to sleep that night, and even Henrietta did not awake until the first breakfast call in the morning. Through the port-light Jessie and Amy saw Burd Alling "bursting his cheeks with sound" as he essayed the changes on the key-bugle.
The Marigold was slipping along the coast easily, with the northern end of Station Island already in sight. The castlelike hotel sprawled all over the headland, but the widest bathing beach was just below it. Next were the premises of the Hackle Island Gold Club, with its pastures, shrubberies, and several water-holes. It was to a part of these enclosed premises that Mr. Norwood said little Henrietta Haney was laying claim.
"And I believe she will get it in time. Most of the land on which those summer houses beyond the golf course stand is also within the lines of the Padriac Haney place."
He explained this to them while they all paced the deck after breakfast. The yacht was headed in toward the dock near the bungalows, some of which were very cheaply built and stood upon stilts near the shore.
The tall gray staff of the abandoned lighthouse was the landmark at the extreme southern end of the island. The sending and receiving station of the commercial wireless company was at the lighthouse, and the party aboard the Marigold could see the very tall antenna connected therewith.
The yacht landed the party and their baggage about ten o'clock. Mrs. Norwood's servants were at hand to help, and a decrepit express wagon belonging to a "native" aided in the transportation of the goods to the big bungalow which was some rods back from the shore. There were no automobiles on the island.
"Is this my house?" Henrietta demanded the moment she learned which dwelling the party of vacationists would occupy.
"It may prove to be your house in the end," Jessie told her.
"When's the end?" was the blunt query. "How long do I have to wait?"