“Aye, the State o’ Maine,” agreed Bill. “She went to pieces there forty-odd years ago, I cal’ate. A brig, she was. Seven men went down with her, they tell.”
Bee shivered. “I’m glad I didn’t see any of them,” he murmured.
“Gone long afore this, they be,” answered Bill. “Well, I must be gettin’ home. Cal’ate, though, I’ll be back again later.”
“Won’t you have some breakfast with us?” asked Bee.
“Thank ye, mate, but I’ll be goin’ back. There’s Benjamin Franklin to feed an’—”
“Benjamin Franklin!” exclaimed Bee.
“The cat,” replied Bill with one of his hidden smiles. “He an’ me be old friends an’ Ben don’t take kindly to waitin’ for his breakfast.”
They watched Bill go down the hill and across the sandy stretch to the wharf and then set about preparing breakfast, everyone taking a hand since all were hungry. The wind had sensibly diminished and it was possible to build a fire outside. Jack was just touching a match to the kindlings when a faint shout reached them and they saw Bill Glass a hundred yards or so up the river waving his hand and pointing across the flat between the river and the sea.
“Now, what’s he mean?” muttered Jack as they moved around the shoulder of the hill. Then three ejaculations of astonishment burst from as many throats. Across what yesterday had been a level stretch of dry sand and beach-grass flowed a twenty-foot inlet! The sea had claimed its right of way once more and once more Nobody’s Island had become an island in fact as well as in name! At the ocean end the waves had eaten a wide indentation in the shore, from which the new stream curved westward until it joined the river. Even as they looked a long section of the bank crumbled and splashed into the water and the little cove widened.