"But what under—"
"Never mind now, father," interposed Leopold. "Fifteen folks from New York will be here pretty soon, and you must be ready for them."
"Fifteen!" exclaimed the landlord, who had been mourning over the fog, which promised to deprive him of the few guests who might otherwise come over to Rockhaven in the steamer.
"Yes, sir, fifteen; and they are Mr. Hamilton's party."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed the astonished and delighted proprietor of the Sea Cliff House.
"But I must go down to the wharf, and help get them ashore," continued Leopold, so excited that he could hardly speak. "They are cold and wet, and want good fires."
"I'll see to the fires Leopold. But where in the world did they come from in this fog?"
"They came in a yacht. I went off about two miles from the ledges after cod and haddock, and picked them up there. They had been knocking about in the fog for twenty-four hours. I brought the yacht into the river, and Mr. Hamilton gave me thirty dollars for pilot's fees. Here's the money, father."
"But, Leopold," added the landlord, as he involuntarily took the bills, "this is your money, and—"
"Never mind, father. We mustn't stop to talk about it now," interposed the son, vehemently. "If you will have the house ready, I will go and bring up the folks. Send the wagon down to the wharf as quick as you can."