Tom, Hal and Bob went ashore with the journalist, promising that they would return immediately after breakfast in the morning. Bob reached his boarding house just before one o’clock. In southern style, the hall door was open, and the boy hurried to his mother’s room. After considerable parley and some alarm, Bob was admitted.

He had his story ready, just as it had been told to the reporter. But it wasn’t told as quickly. There were a hundred interruptions, protests and motherly solicitations. Of course, it all led to one conclusion—Bob could not return to the camp again.

“Never again shall you take such a risk,” Mrs. Balfour asserted. “I haven’t the least doubt but that you will all be sick.”

Then Bob told of Captain Joe’s quinine. To his regret, Mrs. Balfour immediately ran to her medicine box and repeated the dose. Finally, after submitting to all sorts of tests, including the taking of his temperature, Mrs. Balfour had[140] to concede that Bob “seemed” all right.

“‘Seem’?” repeated the boy. “Why mother, I haven’t felt as fine in six months. And it’s years since I’ve eaten as much as I did to-day. You let me go to camp, if Mac is there to cook, and I’ll go back home stronger than a prize fighter.”

“Mac?” exclaimed Mrs. Balfour, springing up in her bed. “Not Mac Gregory?”

“Yes, I told you,” stammered Bob apprehensively. “It was Mac who had the Escambia there.”

“I didn’t understand,” said his mother, with her lips set.

Then the story of Mac’s regeneration had to come out. It was told most adroitly, and in two chapters. At the end of the first chapter, Mrs. Balfour simply announced that, no matter how manfully the Gregory boy had acted, he and Bob could not belong to the same club. Then came Chapter Number Two—the pathetic appeal. At the end of this one, there was hesitation, doubt, and then a little concession: “I’ll see what Mrs. Allen thinks about it.”

The next day was Sunday. Bob did not awaken until nine o’clock. But, when he turned over in bed at last, his eyes fell on a newspaper,[141] folded and standing against the back of a chair in front of the bed. Then his eyes caught a heavy, black headline. He read:

NARROW ESCAPE

Steamer Elias Ward Helpless Off Alabama Point

Mahogany Laden Craft Is Rescued By Boy Heroes

Members Anclote Club Bring Vessel Into Port at Midnight.

Catching up the paper, Bob read a column story that made his cheeks burn. When he saw that the steamer carried a $75,000 cargo, “most of which will undoubtedly be awarded as salvage to the six heroic rescuers,” he rushed into his mother’s room.

“I’ve read it,” she said, her face sobering. “You told me you didn’t do much. I suppose you see that ‘Robert Balfour, the son of a Chicago millionaire, led in the four hours’ battle with the gale.’”

The boy, his eyes snapping, shook the paper.

“It ain’t true,” he began. “I’ll make that reporter take it back—”

His mother walked to Bob and put her arms about the excited boy.
 
“Look here, Bob,” she said, laughing, “I was bothered a good deal last night. But I’ve thought it all out. I want you to be like other boys.” Then her face grew sober. “You are old enough now to know what is right and what is wrong. Your father and I have coddled you until we’ve made you, almost, an invalid. We wouldn’t have let you do what you did in that storm for worlds. But I’m glad you did—I’m even proud of you. I’ve made up my mind it’s what you need to make a man of you. You can go back to camp. From now on, I’m goin’ to let you take care of yourself.”

Tears came into Bob’s eyes, but he caught his mother in his arms and gave her a kiss she never forgot.

“As for Mac Gregory,” continued Mrs. Balfour, “I can’t believe that any one who did what he did is really bad. I believe the impulse that made you boys take him back into your club was a good one. And I believe Mrs. Allen will think so, too.”

That meant another kiss. When Bob walked into the breakfast room, he had already forgotten that he was a hero. But many good-natured greetings at once recalled the newspaper story. It was Bob’s baptism of notoriety. With[143] boyish awkwardness, all he would say was: “Well, we did get pretty wet.”

The moment breakfast was over he rushed his mother to the gallery.

“For goodness sake, mother,” he whispered, “get your hat and let’s get out of this.”

With a smile Mrs. Balfour did so, and she and Bob were just leaving the house when a messenger came up the steps with a telegram. It was addressed to Mrs. Balfour. She opened it and read:

“Notified by reporters Robert in wreck. Consult best physicians. If able, bring home. Shall I come?

“Henry Balfour.”

Mrs. Balfour laughed, and wrote the following reply:

“Absolutely uninjured. No physician necessary. Bob in my charge. Don’t miss your golf game.

“Helen Balfour.”

Bob’s idea was to take his mother out to inspect the steamer. But the story in the Journal had already brought thousands to the Long Wharf, and he and his mother turned back[144] and walked to Mrs. Allen’s home. Of course, Tom was not there. But they found that Mrs. Allen had also relented as to Mac Gregory.

Bob and his mother then returned to their boarding house, dressed and went to church. When they returned, they found Tom Allen and a strange man awaiting them on the gallery. The man was Mr. Beverly Rowe, a lawyer, and a friend of Tom’s dead father. At Captain Joe’s suggestion, the two boys had called on Attorney Rowe to consult with him concerning the claim for salvage.

The lawyer said at once that the practice was so general that he was certain Mr. Hawkins would expect nothing less. “And the claim is so clean cut,” he added, “that I doubt if the owners of the vessel and of the cargo will be inclined to contest it.”

He then explained what the legal steps would be. If those concerned agreed, and desired him to act for them, he would appear before the United States District Court in the morning and libel the vessel in admiralty proceedings. “That is the same thing,” he explained, “as asking the court to take it in charge pending the examination of your claim. When this is done, the............