The "Sea Bee" was under way, but had not got beyond hail, and was put
back when her crew discovered who was signalling them so vigorously.
"What is the matter?" inquired her young skipper, as Cabot again
clambered aboard. "Did you miss the train after all?"
"No," replied Cabot. "I could have caught it; but made up my mind at
the last moment that I might just as well go with you to Pretty Harbour
now as to try and visit it later."
"Good!" cried White, heartily. "I am awfully glad you did. We were
feeling blue enough without you, weren't we, Dave?"
"Blue warn't no name for it," replied Mr. Gidge. "It were worse than a
drop in the price of fish; an' now I feel as if they'd riz a dollar a
kental."
"Thank you both," laughed Cabot. "I hadn't any idea how much I should
hate to leave the old 'Bee' until I tried to do it. You said there was
another station that I could reach from your place, didn't you?" he
added, turning to White.
"Yes. There is one at Bay of Islands that can be reached by a drive of
a few hours from Pretty Harbour; and I'll carry you over there any time
you like," replied the latter.
"That settles it, then; and I'll let St. Johns wait a few days longer."
So the little schooner was again headed seaward, and set forth at a
nimble pace for her run around Cape St. George and up the coast past
Port au Port to the exquisitely beautiful Bay of Islands, on which
Pretty Harbour is located; and, as she bore him away, Cabot hoped he
had done the right thing.
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