“What?” exclaimed Mr. Folsom. “How? When was this? Come, come, let’s have it, Harry!”

So Hal, Bee assisting and Jack corroborating when called on, told the story from the time they had been awakened by the cannon until they reached Bill Glass’s cabin. After that Bill himself took up the tale. “Plucky they was, Mr. Folsom,” he said in concluding. “Why bless ye, sir, ’twan’t no night for a dog to be out! Most blowed away many’s the time we did, sir. One thing, sir, be plumb certain, an’ that be that them boys saved more’n one life aboard the schooner last night! Take my word for it, sir! An’ Honest Bill Glass don’t lie!”

Hal frowned. He had grown to like Bill Glass much better since yesterday, but he didn’t think it good taste on Bill’s part to insist on his honesty when they all knew that he had helped himself liberally to their belongings! But Hal’s father only nodded.

“I believe you, Bill,” he said. “Boys, this is a big surprise to me. I didn’t know how the life saving crew learned of the wreck, but it hadn’t occurred to me that it might have been through you. I don’t see but what you’re a parcel of young heroes! Well, I am certainly grateful, and I think the men will be when they learn of it. It appears to me, Herrick, that you’re the prime hero of all, eh?”

“Oh, no, sir.” Jack shook his head. “We all had a hand in it.”

“It was Jack’s idea, though,” said Hal. “We’d never have thought of getting to the railroad, would we, Bee?”

“Speak for yourself,” replied Bee with dignity. “I’d have thought of it—ultimately; perhaps this morning!”

“And I haven’t forgotten, Herrick, that you saved these two simpletons from an unpleasant experience, at least, and perhaps worse,” continued Mr. Folsom. He was looking at Jack very hard with his sharp eyes, and Jack, embarrassed, bent over his cooking. “You don’t look very much like your father, but I guess you must be—a whole lot.”

“He be more like his grandfather,” agreed Bill Glass with conviction. “I mind a story they used to tell about the old Cap’n, sir. Likely you’ve hearn it. ’Twere in the old days afore the railroad came to Greenhaven an’ we had to go to Shepard’s Falls to get the cars. ’Twas a three mile drive an’ like as not when you’d get there the train would be gone an’ there’d be no other till afternoon. Seems old Cap’n Herrick driv over one day an’ afore he could get his horse put up an’ leg it to the station, the train was a-pullin’ out. The Cap’n he waved an’ he shouted, but they didn’t see him an’ kep’ on a-goin’. So the Cap’n he lit out after the train. He had pretty long legs, the Cap’n did, an’ they say as long as they could see him from the station he was gainin’ on the train every leap! He cal’ated to catch up with it at Saunder’s Mill, which be only half a mile away, for in them days the train used to stop maybe three or four minutes at a station. Well, when the Cap’n got to Saunder’s there wa’n’t any train in sight. The agent there was on the platform, though, an’ the Cap’n he asks: ‘Young feller, have you seen a train go by here?’ Well, the agent he stared an’ he says, ‘Yes, sir, the Newb’ryport train just went out.’ ‘How far ahead be she?’ asks the Cap’n. ‘Maybe a half-mile by this time,’ says the agent. ‘Sho!’ says the Cap’n. ‘Blessed if she ain’t gainin’ on me!’ An’ off he set again down the track. Well, sir, he hadn’t gone more’n a half-mile farther, likely, when he sees the train. Seems they’d got a hot bearin’ or lost a spar or somethin’, an’ the Cap’n he walks up and climbs aboard. An’ just then the conductor comes along an’ sees him an’ says, ‘Why Cap’n Herrick, where’d you come from?’ An’ the Cap’n, bein’ a little angry, says, ‘I come from Shepard’s an’ I’d be in Newb’ryport now if your fool train hadn’t been in my way!’”

Jack laughed with the others and announced that dinner was ready. There weren’t plates enough to go around, nor cups either, but they got along somehow and everyone ate hungrily save Bill Glass. Bill explained apologetically that he’d had his breakfast pretty late—most eight o’clock—and wasn’t hungry yet! Mr. Folsom praised the dinner and the cook and then announced that he would have to get back to the tug.

“I guess we can start to haul her off pretty soon now. Want to come along, Bill?”

Bill accepted the invitation eagerly. Hal asked if they couldn’t go too, but Mr. Folsom said they might be in the way. “You can see everything from here, boys. One thing you had better do, though, Hal, and that’s take a trip home this afternoon and let your mother see that you’re all right. You can spend the night and come back here tomorrow if you haven’t had enough of it. Herrick, you come along too and have some dinner with me this evening. I can’t promise as good as you gave, but you won’t go hungry. Harry, come and walk down to the beach with me.”

By half-past two the Jupiter was safely off the ledge and by three the whole flotilla of boats had disappeared around Toller’s Rock. The boys had meanwhile decided to follow Mr. Folsom’s advice and return to town for the night. Hal was loath to leave their property unprotected, prophesying that they’d find even the tent stolen in the morning. But after he had removed almost everything movable except the tent to the Crystal Spring he felt easier in his mind. They were to take the sloop. The Crystal Spring had stood the gale well, but she had managed to swing her stern onto a sand bank and it took quick work to get her off before the tide fell. As they moved out of the river mouth Hal waved a fond farewell to the Corsair.

“I shall never see you again,” he mourned. “Bill Glass said the other day that he guessed he’d have to have a motor boat, fellows, and here’s his chance.”

“Look here,” said Bee, “I’m beginning to think we were all wrong about the pirate. I don’t believe he stole those things, after all.”

“Well, who did then?” asked Hal.

“I don’t know, but I’ll bet it wasn’t Bill Glass. I like Bill!”

The wind had died down to a fresh breeze out of the north, but there was enough of it to send even the Crystal Spring along at a good pace and it was only a little after five when she sidled into Herrick’s Cove. Jack had tried to refuse Mr. Folsom’s invitation to dinner, but the others would not hear of it.

“Besides,” said Hal, “he particularly wanted me to bring you. He—there’s something he wants to see you about.”

So after a brief visit with Aunt Mercy and Faith the boys crossed the Neck and took the ferry to town. Jack had changed into his best clothes, and Hal and Bee, still in camp attire, pretended that he was ashamed to be seen with them and walked behind him all the way up the hill to the house. Mrs. Folsom proved to be a rather plump, pleasant-faced, placid lady and Jack concluded that Mr. Folsom had stretched it a little when he had told about the “conniption fits.” She welcomed Jack warmly and rather embarrassed him with her praise of his conduct. Mr. Folsom reached home late and dinner wasn’t served until long after seven, by which time there were three very hungry boys waiting. The dinner itself was more elaborate than any Jack had ever partaken of and he had to watch Hal closely to see which knife or fork to use. After dinner they went out to a wide screened porch that was furnished just like a room, with electric lights and deep chairs and tables and rugs and books, and Mrs. Folsom made coffee in a funny copper contrivance and Mr. Folsom, stretching himself in a long wicker chair, lighted a cigar and turned to Jack.

“Herrick, Harry tells me you’re still running that water boat your father had. Doing pretty well, are you?”

“Pretty well, sir.”

“Could do better, though, if you had power, Harry says.”

“Yes, sir, it’s hard to get around. And when there’s a calm I have to use the oars. There’s another boat selling water now—”

“So I hear. Ever think of putting an engine in yours?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve thought of it. I guess I’ll have to pretty soon.”

“I would. Now look here, Jack, here’s a proposition. Last year we piped water down to the wharves so our boats could fill their tanks right at their berths. But the town water isn’t fit to drink half the time and our skipper tells us it gets rotten after it’s been in the butts a week or two. I don’t drink it myself; we buy spring water; and I don’t believe it’s fair to ask the men to. So much for that. Now I’ve got a twenty horsepower Albany engine stored away that came out of the Bessie and May a couple of years ago. It’s in good shape; never was used much; and it isn’t doing any good where it is. Here’s my offer, Jack. You take your boat up to Collins and Haggins’ railway and I’ll have them put that engine in her and fix her up in good shape. If she needs overhauling they might as well do it. I’ll have them make a good all-around job of her; new timbers or planks where they’re needed; new stick, too, if you want. And a couple of coats of paint.”

“Why—why—” stammered Jack. “Thank you very much, Mr. Folsom, but—”

Mr. Folsom raised a protesting hand. “Wait a minute; I’m not through. Now I might do this for you and still be in your debt, my boy, but I think you’re enough like your father to refuse to let me. So I’m going to make a trade with you. That spring water of yours doesn’t cost you anything and it’s mighty fine water. Now if I do what I’ve offered to, Jack, will you serve Folsom and Company’s boats with water for a year without charge?”

“But—but that wouldn’t be fair, sir! If you said three years—or four—”

“Hold on! We use a lot of water, my boy, nowadays. We have sixteen vessels in our fleet. Don’t lose sight of that. It will keep you pretty busy attending to us at times. No, a year is enough. After that we’ll make a new dicker with you, and I guess I can trust you to give us fair terms. Now, what do you say? Yes or no?”

“I say yes, of course, sir, and I—I can’t begin to tell you how much I—how grateful—”

“I understand. And I’m grateful to you for what you did last night, and what you did the other day when you rescued my boy and Bee off the Head. And now there’s one more thing. Have you ever thought of putting that water up in bottles and selling it that way?”

“No, sir.”

“Think it over. In this town I suppose more than half of us buy spring water in bottles or carboys for drinking purposes. And I guess most of us would as lief drink Crystal Spring water as any other kind. You could sell it cheaper, too, for you wouldn’t have to ship it. Better think that over, Jack.”

“Say, that’s a dandy scheme, dad!” exclaimed Hal. “How did you happen to think of it?”

“That doesn’t sound flattering, Harry,” laughed Mr. Folsom. “As a matter of fact, however, I hadn’t thought of it until I began to talk. Then it occurred to me that if Jack here could deliver that water to me I’d just as lief have it as the kind the grocer sells me. Jack, you stop at the office some day and we’ll talk it over. You’ll need a little money, probably, to get the thing started. Perhaps I can help you there. Coffee ready, Lucy?”

Later a date was agreed on when the Crystal Spring was to be at the marine railway and Mr. Folsom promised to see that the gasoline engine was delivered in time. The boys were greatly excited about it and Bee expressed regret that he could not remain in Greenhaven and help Jack run the boat. “And between times,” he said, “I could buzz around town in an auto truck and deliver bottles of spring water, Jack. Honest, you’d better make me an offer. I’m a dandy chauffeur—marine or—or terrestrial!”

“That’s a fine old word!” applauded Hal. “But if you can’t chauffeur an auto truck any better than you can a launch—Say, Jack, I wonder if the Corsair’s gone yet! Dad, who is this Bill Glass?”

“Who is Bill Glass?” Mr. Folsom set down his coffee cup.

“Why do you ask, Harry?”

“Why, because you seem to know him pretty well and we think he’s a bit of a robber.” And Hal told of the disappearance of the articles from the launch and of Jack’s dory. When he had concluded Mr. Folsom shook his head.

“Harry, it’s a bad plan to judge folks by their looks. I’ve been fooled too often myself not to have learned that. There’s your mother. When I first saw her I thought she was a quiet, easy-going little woman who wouldn’t say ‘boo!’ to a fly. Well, you see how she’s turned out. Tyrannizes over me all the time; beats me; starves me to death!”

Mrs. Folsom smiled placidly as the boys laughed.

“But you’re all wrong about Bill Glass, Harry. Bill never stole in his life, and I doubt if he ever told a lie. Whoever took your things, it wasn’t Honest Bill Glass. Ever hear how he came by that name? Bill years ago sailed for Townsend; was mate and then captain. He had the Ellen T. for a couple of years and then they gave him the Massachusetts the first year she was built. Well, Bill had her off New Foundland and he got caught inside the three-mile limit by a revenue boat. Bill didn’t know he was inside the line until they nabbed him and took him to port. They libelled the boat and the case went to court. There wasn’t much of a case against him because it was pretty doubtful just where the Massachusetts had really been, owing to the fog. I guess if Bill had been willing to lie about it they’d had to release him. But when they asked Bill he told the truth. ‘Quarter of a mile inside the limit,’ said Bill. And they put on the fine and Townsend had to pay it. But that lost Bill his job. Townsend said he was a fool. Bill sailed for me as mate several years and then built himself a cabin over on the hay meadows and went to fishing. I guess he’d managed to save a little money, for I don’t think he makes much fishing, although I’ve seen him come in with a catch now and then. No, it wasn’t Honest Bill Glass who took that dory, boys.”

“I didn’t think he did, anyway,” said Bee stoutly. “At least, not lately.”

“Still, he certainly held us up good and hard for bringing us off Hog Island,” said Hal.

“Oh,” laughed Mr. Folsom when he had heard about that, “Bill probably saw you suspected him and thought he’d make you pay for it. And besides I don’t see but what four dollars was a fair enough price. When you first asked me about Bill I thought maybe you’d heard something.”

“Heard what, sir?” asked Harry.

“Well,” hesitated Mr. Folsom, “maybe I oughtn’t to speak of it. You boys will have to promise not to let it go any further. It’s pretty well known, I suppose, but nobody ever mentions it.”

“We promise,” said Hal eagerly. “What is it, dad?”

Mr. Folsom laughed. “You’re as eager for gossip as a woman, Harry. It’s just this; if you boys ever found any treasure on Nobody’s Island it wouldn’t belong to you after all.”

“It wouldn’t? Why, sir?” asked Bee.

“Because it would belong of right to Bill Glass.”

“Bill Glass! Why—why, does he own the island, sir?”

“No, although maybe he’s got as good a title to it as anyone. But that’s not the reason. The real reason is that anything Old Verny buried belongs to his heirs, and Bill Glass is Old Verny’s son!”