“Portland harbor is so beautiful that I hate to leave it,” Ellen said to the other girls as they were getting under way.

“So do I,” agreed Mabel. “There never was anything so lovely as that harbor with the lighted bridge running across it.”

“And it just seemed too wonderful to be true for those northern lights to appear on top of everything else. I would have given anything if the rest of you had been up on deck to see them too. I didn’t know what had happened till Breck stuck his head up through the galley hatch and told me,” Jane said.

“Speaking of Breck,” Frances put in, “have you ever seen anything like the change in that gentleman? When we first came on board, he was silent as the grave and solemn as any owl, and now he works around on deck, whistling and he talks a lot more. And,” she added, “he knows how to talk remarkably well too.”

“But have you noticed to whom he talks?” inquired Mabel with a teasing glance at Jane.

“Why no, come to think of it, I hadn’t noticed particularly.”

“As if you would notice anything, Ellen, with Jack anywhere near you. If I ever get so wrapped up in my fat Charlie, will you all promise to drown me?” begged Mabel.

“You are both of you unbearable. But promise to drown you? No, it would hasten your death too much,” and Frances laughed at Mabel’s pleading face. “The disease is just as bad in you as in Ellen. The only difference is in the way it affects you. It makes Ellen a little quieter than usual and you a little noisier.”

The “Boojum” had gathered speed and was roaring along with the spray coming over the bow and drenching the girls to such an extent that they were forced to go and sit tamely in the cockpit, a thing that was distasteful to them all, but particularly to Frances and Jane.

“If our wind and luck hold, we can easily make Vinal Haven tonight,” said Charlie, looking up from the chart he and Jack had been reading.

“For my part,” announced Frances, “I hope it doesn’t. We have been too lucky, always doing just what we set out to do. With the exception of turning over at Plymouth, everything has happened according to Hoyle.”

“Well, we will see if we can’t arrange a little shipwreck for the bloodthirsty lady from the wild and woolly west,” laughed Jack.

At sunset the “Boojum” was nosing her way through a little group of islands, lying purple on the dark water. To port lay the largest, its rocky cliffs taking on weird lights from the sinking sun.

Jane caught her breath in a little gasp of admiration. Reaching for the chart, she quickly found their whereabouts. “Mr. Wing,” she called excitedly, “this is just too lovely a spot to pass. The chart says it’s Hurricane Island and dead ahead is Old Harbor. Can’t we stop here tonight instead of going on to Vinal Haven. Old Harbor ought to be a good anchorage. It is protected on three sides by these islands.”

“Why Plain Jane, as far as I am concerned, we can. The others are an easy-going bunch and generally want to do whatever anybody suggests. Let me see the chart.”

Jane hung over him until he nodded his head in approval of the harbor’s description on the chart and then dashed forward to free the anchor.

“Oh! Breck, did you ever in your life see anything quite as beautiful as that big island with the sun slipping down back of it?” she asked him as he leaned against the foremast, looking out for buoys.

“I am mighty glad you asked Mr. Wing to anchor here tonight. I was just thinking that was just what I would do if I were on my own boat.”

“Can you tell whether those purplish humps on the island are houses or just huge boulders? It seems a funny place for a settlement and, besides, there isn’t a single light in any of the windows if they are houses and not rocks,” asked Jane, peering into the fast-gathering darkness.

“Tomorrow, if you say so and there is time, I’ll row you over and we can find out. I don’t believe I ever heard of Hurricane Island before. It’s a nice adventurous kind of name though.”

Mabel came bouncing along the deck in the way peculiar to her and broke in with, “Everybody is raving about the beauty of this place and, of course, I know it is really lovely but nobody will listen to me and my material thoughts. I have seen one million lobster pots, I know and, Breck, please try and see tomorrow if you can’t get some for us. Where there are so many lobster pots, there must be some people to take the lobsters out.”

The next morning directly after breakfast Jane and Frances took the dinghy and rowed over to explore a small island running up into a high peak. Mr. Wing had promised to let the little party stay at this interesting spot for as long as they liked. The original plan had been to cruise on to Bar Harbor and then come leisurely back to New York. With one accord, it had been decided that it would be more fun to stop at Old Harbor for a few days than to go on to Bar Harbor for, as Mabel said, “there is nothing at Bar Harbor but clothes and silly little men,” and Charlie had said, “What about the fluffy little girls?”

Jack and Ellen and Mabel and Charlie had gone out in the tender to follow some fishermen and make arrangements for getting Mabel the coveted lobsters. Mr. Wing, the steward, and Breck had stayed aboard the “Boojum” to keep ship, which meant for Mr. Wing, lying on the deck mattress and dozing in the sun; for the steward, a general galley cleaning, and for Breck the filling of many sheets of white paper with his surprisingly small writing.

“Now that we are here,” Frances said to Jane as she jumped out on the rocky beach of the island, “I don’t see what in the world we are going to tie the dinghy to.”

“Why not lug one of these rocks down and set it on the rope? That ought to hold it,” suggested Jane.

Assuring themselves that the dinghy was made fast, the two friends set out to see the island. It was literally covered with blueberries, as they had so often found to be the case in the other little islands they had seen during the trip.

After eating her fill, Jane announced that she was going to lie down and go to sleep in the sun.

“Lazy Jane, no sleep for me. I am going to climb to the very top of the hill and to the very top of the huge rock on top of the hill. Excelsior! It will be a gorgeous view up there. You ought to come.” Frances started out with many flourishes of a long stick she had found.

The warmth of the sun and the sound of the water beating against the rocks that bordered the island soon sent Jane into a delicious sleep.

Frances clambered up the hill, stopping now and again to look out over the water, the panorama becoming more beautiful as she climbed higher. It was difficult climbing too, for there were many loose rocks and she started several miniature land slides.

On the extreme top of the hill was a rocky plateau, in the center of which lay a shallow pool of stagnant water. As she drew near, two huge black crows cawed and flew from its edge.

“Ugh!” she said. “How very gruesome, and how silly for me to be talking out loud.” Then she heard a little sound as of a sharp, intaken breath, coming from behind a big, flat rock to the left of where she stood. She went quickly and leaned over the rock. At the sight of a man&r............