“YO ho, ye Sunset Islanders!” called a voice from the doorway of the bungalow, and there stood the Captain from Isola Bella with a note in his hand.

“Oh Benton, you’re not going to take me home?” cried Miriam, watching Mrs. Remington’s face anxiously as she opened the letter.

“No indeed, Miriam—it is an invitation,” said Mrs. Remington. “Listen, my children, and you shall hear of a picnic planned on Spruce Island for to-morrow if the day is fine. Uncle Bill says that the tide will not be quite right—high in the middle of the day and ebb all afternoon, but we can all go down in the launch.”

“Oh, that will be great!” cried Paul.

“I think Uncle Bill’s a brick!” exclaimed Billy.

“If there’s a cap full of wind I’m going to sail down, mother, and add to my mileage for the sailing coup,” added Fred, quick to take advantage of such a good opportunity.

“Suppose you can’t sail back?” asked Elizabeth.

“Then we can be towed back—if the worst comes to the worst. Who wants to sail with me?” said Fred.

So many replied that they had to draw lots with slips of paper and Paul and Dudley won the prize.

“Oh, won’t that be fine!” cried Paul, dancing about with the winning slip of paper waving over his head.

“Hurrah, I got a winner, too! You’ll let me help sail her, won’t you, Fred?” begged Dudley.

“Well, I’ll let you learn if you’ll do just as I say,” replied Fred, doubtfully.

“Cross my heart, I will,” said Dudley, solemnly.

“Oh, I don’t care if you do sail, Dud, ’cause Benton’s goin’ to let me steer the Zeus,” bragged Billy, nonchalantly.

“Yes, Sonny, I’m going to prepare you for that launch you told me you wanted to buy,” agreed the Captain with whom Billy was a great favourite.

Mrs. Remington smiled at the Captain’s reference to the “phantom launch” of Billy’s and handed Benton a note of acceptance for the picnic.

As the Captain backed to the door of the bungalow, he remarked in farewell, “I must be goin’ across the bay, now, to take an invitation to your uncle and aunt.”

“I s’pose Mrs. Charlton will take me back home with her to-night, so I may as well be packing my suit-case,” grumbled Trixie, dolefully.

“Yes, I suppose so! I believe Mrs. Charlton has planned a motor trip for you,” added Mrs. Remington. “I wish Trixie could stay with us all summer, mother,” sighed Elizabeth.

“Well, we must have her over again very soon, dear,” replied Mrs. Remington.

“Oh, I wish you would! But I ought to have a better camp outfit—my checked skirt is the only suitable article I really have for the boat or outdoor fun,” said Trixie.

The entire party trooped down to see Captain Benton off and while he embarked the supper bell rang from the bungalow doorway. Then there was a race on the course from the float-stage to the table. As usual, when it was a question of eating, Paul came in first.

That evening, the moonlight was so beautiful that Fred proposed a row around the Island. Everybody accepted without hesitation and the two boats were soon gliding through the water in the silvery track of the moon.

The merry voices of the young singers in the party sounded far over the calm bay and roused Uncle Bill’s mastiff. No doubt the dog heard and recognised the voices of his little pals of the Island. The baying of Nelson then brought the plaintive “baa-baas” of the sheep on Islesboro and blended musically with the singing.

“Say, let’s call to Nelse!” suggested Billy, about to whistle when Miriam quickly stopped him. “No, no! Nelson will surely try to swim over to join us, you know!” cried Miriam.

“Did Nelse ever swim as far as this?” asked Paul.

“You bet he did, the old rascal!” laughed Billy.

“It was one day when Mamma and all of us from Isola Bella came to a picnic over here and Nelson was left alone. After he hunted everywhere for some one to share his watch, he decided to follow after us. We had all gone to the south end when we heard a crashing through the bushes back of us. And there stood old Nelse—all in, too, from the long swim in the icy water,” explained Miriam.

“Gee whiz! Nelson ought to have a Grand coup for that!” laughed Dudley.

“Well, that’s why Papa doesn’t want him to try it again,” added Miriam, seriously.

“Why—because he won a Grand coup?” teased Billy.

“Oh, you know what I mean!” retorted Miriam, while the others laughed merrily.

“Doesn’t the tide make the island a lot bigger when it is low?” remarked Paul, looking curiously at the shore line.

“Yes, it adds an acre or two to the area,” replied Fred.

“Do you think the sky looks as if it would be a clear day for the picnic?” now asked Dudley, anxiously, peering at a cloud as large as his hand.

“Sure thing! But I think we ought to get back to camp and go to bed so we can get up bright and early,” advised Fred.

So without further demur the boats were turned toward the float and the Islanders were soon climbing the path to the tents.

Early in the morning, came a clarion call that hastened the toilettes of the occupants of tents and bungalow—“Rouse ye Britons, Rouse ye Slaves!”

Billy sprang out of bed and waved his hand in token of obedience, as he saw his mother stand calling through the megaphone.

“Hurry up now, we’ve got a lot to do before we’re ready for the picnic,” advised Fred, pulling Paul out of his cot.

Breakfast was a hurried meal that morning as every one was busily engaged in getting everything needed to make the picnic at Spruce Island a success. Elizabeth and Fred were packing the big hamper with good things while Billy and Dudley were helping Mose and Mrs. Remington.

The wheel-barrow had been loaded three times and the picnic stuff transported from the commissary department of the bungalow to the float-stage before all was ready and waiting for the boat.

At the last moment Mrs. Remington saw Edith standing looking about for any forgotten item. Suddenly she called to the child.

“Oh, Edith! Don’t forget the nature books! You know Spruce Island is rich in specimens of wild flowers and you Woodcrafters will want to complete your lists of fifty varieties.”

“Oh, I almost forgot that! And I only have twenty more to get for my coup for wild flowers,” cried Edith, running indoors.

“Anna, are you quite sure we packed enough sandwiches?” asked Mrs. Remington, turning to the governess as she came from the house.

Anna laughed. “If the heaped-up loads I saw taken by slow freight via the wheel-barrow route a few moments ago are all eatables, I should say we could feed the starving Belgians for a week, at least!”

“Oh, well, Anna, you know how our children eat and then there will be the Rosemary folks and all of the Isola Bella people, too!” reminded Mrs. Remington, seriously.

“Even so, won’t they bring hampers?” returned Anna.

“Well, Aunt Miriam is bringing a large freezer of ice-cream and Aunt Edith said she would bake two large cakes, but I haven’t the slightest idea of what else they may bring.”

“Judging from past picnics, I should guarantee that each one of the three families will take enough to last all summer,” remarked Anna, smilingly.

“Maybe, but it also is a fact that not a crumb is ever found to carry back home or throw to the fish!”

At this moment Fred appeared on the scene with a plan. “Mother, Paul and Dud and I want to sail to the Island in the dory. You see, I want to win my sailing coup for one hundred and fifty miles this summer, and this opportunity is a good one.”

“But the tide is against you, Fred,” objected his mother.

“That won’t matter so much as there is a nice stiff breeze from the northwest and the boys have agreed to be good.”

“Well, all right, then,” complied his mother.

By ten-thirty the boys had started and the others were all ready and waiting impatiently for the first peep at the Zeus which was to take them to Spruce Island.

“What a boatful! And still more to come,” laughed Billy, as he watched Captain Benton carefully manipulate the Zeus to bring it alongside the float.

“Why, where’s Aunt Miriam and Uncle Bill?” cried Edith, missing them from the group in the Zeus.

“The ice-cream was not quite finished and so Papa sent to ask the Captain to stop again for them on the way down,” explained Miriam.

Captain Ed had just started the power-dory that was to carry the commissary and Mose to Spruce Island, when Billy, watching, gave vent to a loud sigh.

“What’s troublin’ you, sonny?” asked the Captain.

“Ah gee! I wish I had a launch and you know as well as I where there’s a peach I could get at a bargain!”

“Maybe, if you’re a good boy something will happen about the time of your birthday,” hinted Mrs. Remington.

“Oh, mother! I’d be willing to go without my allowance and add all my Christmas money to it, too, if I could have that launch now!” exclaimed Billy, eagerly.

“Well, never mind now, but try to behave and earn the launch that way,” advised his mother.

Arrived at Isola Bella the mariners found Uncle Bill making a great to-do about moving the heavy ice-cream freezer over on the wharf. Aunt Miriam and two lady visitors stood giving him superfluous advice as he did things his own way, after all.

After the freezer was safely shipped, a large hamper of goodies followed, and then the ladies were assisted aboard.

“Hurrah! We’re off at last!” cried Uncle Bill, as they rounded the south end of Isola Bella.

“And I can see the Orion with all on board! Blow the whistle, Billy, and salute them,” added Mrs. Remington.

An answering whistle came from Uncle Tom, and soon his launch carrying the second party slipped along after the Zeus on its way to Spruce Island.

“How about a chantey!” shouted Uncle Bill, for he had been very quiet for at least two minutes. Without a second’s delay, Billy started up and the rest joined in the song.

By the time this swinging song was concluded Uncle Tom started one from the Orion and the passengers of the Zeus joined in.

Having arrived at Spruce Island, a brigade was formed to carry boxes, hampers, and wraps from the boats to the picnic spot in the shade of a clump of firs.

The younger element in the party wanted to start at once on an exploration of the island, which contained nearly two hundred acres, thickly wooded with fir trees and white birch overhanging the rocky bluffs of the shore.

“See here, boys, if you go alone on this quest, you must promise to stick together. We have never been all over the island and there may be danger spots that we know nothing of, you see. With a crowd there is comparative safety, but should one of you straggle away and get into trouble it might be difficult to help,” admonished Uncle Bill.

The very seriousness of the habitually jolly man made an impression on the boys so that Fred promised for all of them. “And we’ll be all right, folks, never fear,” added he.

“I don’t see why we girls can’t go with you,” pouted Trixie.

“That isn’t it, but I really do not approve of the boys going alone, to say nothing of you girls going too!” remonstrated Aunt Miriam.

The boys made quick work of getting away for fear of being called back by one of the troubled mothers while the girls were soon engaged in finding new specimens of flowers for their books.

“If we gather them now we can identify and arrange them after lunch this noon,” suggested Elizabeth.

The boys had covered many acres of the island and were feeling like genuine explorers when Billy suddenly spied a fish-hawk’s nest high up in a tall spruce.

“Great Scott, Bill! What a chance to get a snapshot of that osprey’s nest,” called Fred.

“It’s lucky that I brought my kodak, isn’t it?” added Paul. “The tree looks kind of risky to climb,” ventured Dudley.

“Oh, no, I can climb it easy enough,” boasted Billy.

“Bill’s climbed higher and worse trees than this one,” added Fred.

“Well, seein’ he’s the best climber in the bunch I’ll let him use my kodak if he wants to shinny up and try for a close-up picture,” offered Paul.

“That’ll be great! and I can add another one to my list of wild-bird photographs,” said Billy, delightedly.

“For me too,” said Paul.

“Why, no, it won’t count for you unless you climb up and get it,” remonstrated Dudley.

An argument followed that made Paul sulky but Billy paid little attention to him as he took the kodak and climbed up the giant spruce.

There was a thick tangle of undergrowth all about the tree and the boys had had to break through this before reaching the spruce. So intent were Fred and Dudley in watching Billy go higher and ever higher, that they failed to note Paul’s absence.

Paul, with his impatient and stubborn nature, felt so piqued at the idea of not being able to claim the coup after offering the use of his kodak, started away from the boys in a huff. The boys never dreamed of his anger or envy over the coup winning so did not trouble to look over or beyond the jungle of brush. While Paul, be it said to his credit, forgot all about Uncle Bill’s admonition and the promise made not to wander away from the others.

He finally reached a small promontory of land that jutted out into the sea. As he walked out on the upthrust, a white strip of sandy beach was found to be lying snugly at the bottom of the bluff. About a hundred feet across from the place where the boy stood, another large finger of high-land ran out from the shore actually making a secluded little cove of the beach.

“My, what a dandy little place for a swim! I can undress down between these two high rocks and have a dip, then get back into my clothes again before Billy gets through with that nest!” said Paul to himself as he slid down the steep bank to the beach.

Once on the smooth sand the boy looked about. He was well-screened all right, and not a thing could he see beyond the high banks behind him.

“Just like a bath-house. Two rock walls, with some trees right behind and a peachy beach in front! No one’d ever dream of finding sand on this island of rocks and fir-grown boulders,” remarked Paul to himself, as he started to walk to the water’s edge.

“I’ll just see how far out this little sand strip runs—it may stop short just beyond and then drop down suddenly.”

As Paul bent over the sparkling water the better to scan the distance the sand ran out under the waves, he felt himself slowly sinking down to his ankles in the sand.

“Huh! This is funny. Never felt anything like it before,” murmured he, chuckling at the queer sensation of being sucked down.

By the time his legs were in to the shins, he started to wonder seriously, not yet dreaming of danger, however.

Not entirely liking the grip the sand seemed to have taken on his feet, Paul tried to back away but found he could not tear his feet out of its clutch.

“Let go! Let me get out, I say!” growled Paul to the quicksand, as he twisted and struggled to climb out of the mire.

The boy had not enough experience to know what to do in this emergency and being too far away from the other boys to be seen by them, he felt that he must manage to get free of the quagmire that was drawing him in deeper every moment.

By the time he had sunk to the calves he was thoroughly frightened and endeavoured wildly to throw himself out of the engulfing sand. The more he struggled and squirmed the quicker he sank and then, desperate with his danger and horror, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

He gazed frantically about, but the only sign of habitation was a deserted-looking camp some distance away on the bluff.

Again Paul yelled “Help! Help! Help!” and ended in a terrific cry that curdled the blood in Billy’s veins just as he was about to push the button in the kodak.

“What’s that yell, Bill?” called Fred from below.

Frightened Billy looked around carefully and located a human speck down near the water. From the manner in which it was tossing about its arms it seemed to be in dire need of help.

None of the boys were aware of Paul’s desertion but expected to find him fooling with bugs or flowers on the other side of the brush. So, Billy thought some one unknown to them needed help.

“Some one’s having a nasty time over there near the water—I don’t know who or what is wrong, but I can make out that whoever it is wants help. Hustle over and see, Fred!” called Billy.

“Where—which way and direction?” shouted Fred, looking up at Billy.

“Off in that direction—straight through that opening of the firs!” came down from Billy, who had started to descend the moment he took the bearings.

“We’ll run ahead, you follow, Bill!” called Fred, turning to tell Dudley and Paul to come with him.

“Where’s Paul?” cried he, suddenly missing the boy.

“Wh-hy-I don’t know. I was so busy watching Billy I didn’t see him leave us,” replied Dudley, frightened and running after Fred as fast as he could go.

Billy reached the ground and started to tear after the other boys when he heard the familiar whistle generally given as a signal from Uncle Bill when he was in search of any one.

Billy signalled in return and soon Uncle Bill came from the fir-woods and crossed the small clearing that lay between the firs and the spruce where the hawk’s nest was located.

“Hurry—come with me and help!” cried Billy, catching hold of his uncle’s hand before anything could be said.

On the way he breathlessly explained what he had seen from the tree-top, and where Fred and Dudley had gone.

“Must be a quicksand. If all you boys are O. K. who can it be? I thought no one was on the island besides ourselves?” cried Uncle Bill.

“I saw a sort of a hut near there when I was up in the tree!” added Billy.

“Perhaps it is some one from the hut; but then they ought to know of the danger I should think! Anyway we ought to have a rope to throw,” said Uncle Bill now thoroughly anxious, dragging his nephew along to keep up with his running strides.

“I’ll run over to the camp and see if I can find a line or rope,” said Billy, as they reached the edge of the grove near the bluff.

“Yes, and if any one lives there get them to come and help with a board or plank!”

Billy ran along the edge of the bluff toward the camp he could see some distance away, while Uncle Bill came out to the sheltered strip of beach where he saw Fred and Dudley striving to save Paul’s life.

It needed but a glance to make the whole situation clear, and in wild leaps the man reached the frantic group on the sand.

“Keep still, don’t move!” shouted Fred to the struggling Paul.

“The more you squirm and fight the deeper you go!” added Dudley, as Uncle Bill ran up behind them.

Fred was lying on his stomach trying to shove an old fence rail out to the boy. As he carefully guided it so that the end of the rail would slide over the sand and possibly be worked under the arm of the victim, he encouraged Paul with advice.

“When this rail comes near you, try to get your arm over it so it can be used as a brace for you. Then, I’ll try to work another out for your other arm.”

“Here, Fred, let me do that job while Dud and you run and get some more rails wherever you found these,” cried the welcome voice of Uncle Bill.

Both boys showed signs of great relief and confidence as they gave place to the man, and started for the rails of an old fence they had found while crossing the clearing near the bluff.

Meantime, Billy reached the camp but found no one there. It appeared to be a deserted fisherman’s hut but some old rope still hung coiled upon a hook driven in the side of the door-post.

When he reached the spot where Uncle Bill was working to help Paul, Billy was shocked to recognise the victim.

Fred and Uncle Bill managed to worm the rails out so that Paul slid his arms up over them and this acted as a resistible brace against the suction of the mire. Then, with practised hand the coil of rope was flung and as it fell it formed a loop over Paul’s head.

“Now, work that noose down over your shoulders, and when both arms are over it give the word so I can pull you out,” ordered Uncle Bill.

Once more on terra firma Paul was congratulated at his narrow escape but the pallor of his face was sufficient punishment then, so that Uncle Bill refrained from scolding him.

“The next thing for us to do is to scrape Paul. We ought to get him over to Mose where he can undress and wrap himself in a shawl until this mire is washed from his clothes,” said Uncle Bill.

“We must keep this a secret from the girls, you know,” warned Fred.

“If they smell a rat we’ll say Paul slipped into a pool of mire, which is the truth,” laughed Dudley.

“I think some one ought to set up a danger sign at that awful spot,” said Paul, still shivering at the thought of it.

“Yes, Paul’s right. We’ll go back afterwards and fix up some sort of warning for others,” approved Fred.

“I’ll tell you how! When we go back for the picture of the fish-hawk’s nest this afternoon, we can sneak down and stick up that Turkey red cushion top from the launch. That will mean danger, you know,” suggested Billy.

“And maybe you can find a can of paint or some other stuff at that shack so I can mark a warning on the boulder of rock alongside of the sand,” added Uncle Bill.

Paul and his rescuers reached Mose’s camp and were fortunate enough to find everybody gone on a flower quest. Mose alone kept solitary vigil of the clam-chowder cooking over a good camp-fire. In a moment, he was eager to help poor Paul in his “mire” need.

“Heah, Chile, tak’ dese two sweaters an’ use ’em fo’ a go’fing costume. Clim’ inta th’ sleeves ov one sweater wid yur feet an’ pull de’ odder down obber yo’ haid. Strap bof’ togedder about yo’ middle wid’da rope—lik’ dat, now!” And Mose assisted Paul in dressing as he advised.

When the boy emerged from back of the bushes where he and his valet had retired, the other boys laughed at the sight the sweaters made of Paul.

Mose gathered up the miry clothes and started in to scrape them as clean as possible before washing them.

“Say, Bo, yo’ don’ ever expec’ t’ wear deses again, do yo’?” questioned he. “Can’t they be washed clean?” wondered Paul, anxiously.

“Ah kin wash ’em but dis clam-mud ain’t neber goin’ t’ let go fer good! One thing sure, dough, it’ll mek’ th’ coat thicker an’ warmer fo’ nex’ winter!” grinned Mose.

“Oh, go ’long, Mose, we all know you’re foolin’!” laughed Billy, leading Paul away from the teasing cook.