“Do you suppose you girls could find him?” Miss Meadows urged. “I’ll wait here.”
“We can try,” Judy promised.
She and Kathleen set off at once, making their way to the river level. Captain Hager was not at the dock where they first had met him, nor was his boat anywhere visible on the river.
Judy surveyed the water front, noticing a two-room shack several hundred yards down the beach.
“That might be his place,” she said. “We can try there anyway.”
A brisk walk brought them to the modest little cabin. Though small, the building was trim and neat, and had recently been whitewashed. There was a little garden at the rear, carefully watered and fertilized. An anchor, encrusted with rust, hung above the door.
“This must be Captain Hager’s place,” Judy decided.
She knocked. After a time, the door opened. Captain Hager stood there in his shirt sleeves, looking older and less spry than the girls had remembered him.
But upon recognizing the Scouts, his face creased into a welcoming smile.
“Come in, come in!” he boomed.