“I’m durn sorry to see you go, matey!” said Captain Jeb next morning, as they pulled out the new sails of the “Sary Ann” for a start. “But whenever you want a whiff of salt air and a plunge in salt water, why, Killykinick is here and your job of second mate open to you.”
“Shake on that!” said Dan, gripping his old friend’s hand. “If I know myself, I’ll be down every summer.”
“Looks as if I owed you something for all that fishing,” remarked old Neb, pulling out his leather wallet.
“Not a cent!” said Dan, briskly. “I’m a monied man now, Neb,—a regular up-and-down plute. Keep the cash for some new nets next summer when we go fishing again.”
And so, with friendly words and wishes from all, even from Dud, whom recent events had quite knocked out of his usual grandeur, the whole party bade adieu to Killykinick. Freddy and his father were to remain a while at Beach Cliff with Father Tom, who was taking his holiday there.
At Brother Bart’s request, the home journey was to be made as much as possible by rail, so after the “Sary Ann,” still a little stiff and creaky in the joints, had borne them to the steamboat, which in a few hours touched the mainland and made connections with the train, the travellers’ route lay along scenes very different from the rugged rocks and sands they had left. As they swept by golden harvest fields and ripening orchards and vineyards whose rich yield was purpling in the autumn sun, good Brother Bart heaved a sigh of deepest content.
“Sure you may say what you please about water, Danny lad, but God’s blessing is on the good green land. If it be the Lord’s will, I’ll never leave it again; though we might have found worse places than Killykinick and those good old men there,—may God lead them to the Light!”
And as the Limited Express made its schedule time, Pete Patterson was just closing up as usual at sundown, when a sturdy, brown-cheeked boy burst into his store,—a boy that it took Pete’s keen eyes full half a minute to recognize.
“Dan Dolan!” he cried at last,—“Dan Dolan, grown and fattened and slicked up like—like a yearling heifer! Danny boy, I’m glad to see you,—I’m glad to see you, sure! You’ve come to take the job?”
“No, I haven’t,—thank you all the same, Pete!” was the quick answer. “I’ve struck luck for sure,—luck with a fine old plute, who is ready to stake me for all I could earn here, and keep me at St. Andrew’s.”