Sure enough, he had. The gallant sailboat was half buried in the sand, the beautiful white sails all draggled and wet. The wind had evidently driven her ashore and up on the beach.
“That’s what happens to real boats when they are shipwrecked,” said Mr. Horton, who caught up to them as they were examining the ship. “You’re lucky, Sunny Boy; Mother can make you a new set of sails and your boat will be all right and as good as ever. Ever so many ships are hopelessly wrecked by being driven on the beach.”
Sunny Boy hugged his recovered treasure happily. He was puzzled to know how The Billow could have sailed ashore while he was hunting it, for he thought he had looked very carefully. He finally decided in his own mind that his boat had passed the motor-boat in the storm and that the high waves had kept him from seeing it. Even yet Sunny Boy did not realize how wide and how vast the ocean is, or understand that many, many ships may pass daily on the sea so many miles apart that they can not see each other.
“Here’s Sunny!” shrieked Ellen, running out as the Hortons passed the Gray bungalow. “You didn’t get drowned, did you? And look, Ralph, he caught up with The Billow, and—”
Sunny Boy would have stayed to explain to Ellen, but Daddy and Mother hurried him along to get into dry clothes. And when he reached the house Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson and Harriet had to stop him and hug him and hear all about his experience. You should have seen the dinner Harriet had ready for him when he was dressed in clean, dry clothes. She had even sent over to town for chocolate ice-cream.
“Olive,” said Mr. Horton to his wife the next morning, “Sunny Boy and his sailing expedition made me forget to speak to you about a letter that came by special delivery yesterday morning. It’s from Wright, and he says that deal will drag along for several months unless I come on to New York.”
Sunny Boy was watching his mother cutting out new sails for The Billow and he knew he must not interrupt Daddy when he was talking business. He wanted dreadfully to ask Daddy not to go away.
“I was thinking that you and Sunny Boy and I might go to New York for three or four weeks,” went on Mr. Horton, just as he might say: “Suppose we go home to-morrow.”
Sunny’s mother put down her shears.
“Go to New York!” she echoed. “Why, think of the expense. And what should I do with Sunny Boy in a hotel?”