Dan stood staring in blank amazement, while Freddy's voice rose into shriller triumph:

"Jim, Dud, Brother Bart, look,--look what is coming here!"

She was coming indeed, this white-winged stranger, swaying to the right and left under skilful guidance as she made her way to the Killykinick wharf; for her rugged old Captain knew the perils of the shore. And under the gay awnings that shaded the deck was a merry group of young people, waving their handkerchiefs to the rocky island they were approaching; while Polly's big handsome "dad," in white linen yachting togs, pointed out the ship house and the wharf, the tower and garden patch,--all the improvements that queer old Great-uncle Joe had made on these once barren rocks. Polly's dad had known about the old captain and his oddities all his life. Indeed, once in his very early years as he now told his young listeners, he had made a boyish foray in Great-uncle Joe's domain, and had been repelled by the old sailor with a vigor never to be forgotten.

"I never had such a scientific thrashing in my life," laughed dad, as if he rather enjoyed the remembrance. "We were playing pirate that summer. I had a new boat that we christened the 'Red Rover,' after Cooper's story; and we rigged her up with a pirate flag, and proceeded to harry the coast and do all the mischief that naughty twelve-year-olds can do. Finally, I proposed, as a crowning adventure, a descent upon Killykinick, pulling down old Joey Kane's masthead and smashing his lantern. Well, we caught a Tartar there, I can tell you! The old captain never had any use for boys. And to think of the place being full of them now!"

"Oh, no, dad! There are only four," said Polly,--"four real nice boys from St. Andrew's College, and just the right size to come to my party. O Nell, Gracie, look! There they come!"

And the handkerchiefs fluttered again gleefully as "The Polly" made up to the wharf, and the whole population of Killykinick turned out to greet her,--even to Brother Bart, who had been reading his well-worn "Imitation" on the beach; and Neb, who, with the bag of potatoes he had just dug up, stood staring dumbly in the distance.

"Killykinick ahoy!" shouted dad, making a speaking trumpet of his hands.

"Aye, aye!" answered Captain Jeb, with his crooked smile. "You're 'The Polly' of Beach Cliff. What's wanted, Mr. Forester? Clams or lobsters?"--for in these latter days Killykinick did something of a trade in both with the pleasure boats and cottages along the coast.

"Well, we don't like to call them either; do we, Polly?" laughed dad, as he stepped ashore, while the little girls crowded to the deck rail. "'The Polly' is sailing under petticoat orders to-day and is scouring the waters in search of four boys that, we understand, you have here at Killykinick."

"We have," answered Captain Jeb,--"or at least the Padre here has. They're none of mine."

"I am no Padre, as I've told ye again and again, Jeroboam," interposed Brother Bart. "I am only Brother Bartholomew from St. Andrew's College. And I have four boys here, but they've been under my eye day and night," he continued anxiously; "so, in God's name, what are ye after them for, sir? They have done ye nor yours no harm, I am sure."

"None in the world," said Mr. Forester quickly, as he saw his light speech was not understood. "I was only joking with Captain Jeb. My mission here, I assure you, is most friendly. Permit me to introduce myself, Brother Bar--Bar--Bartholomew--"

"Ye can make it Bart, sir, for short; 'most everyone does," said the good Brother, nodding.

"Then, Brother Bart, I am Mr. Pemberton Forester, of Beach Cliff. I am also known by the briefer and pleasanter name of this little lady's 'dad,' and it is in that official capacity I am here to-day. It seems this little girl of mine met your boys a few days ago at Beach Cliff, where they rendered her most valuable service."

"One--it was only one of them, dad!" corrected Miss Polly's silvery voice. "It was only Dan Dolan who caught my bird and--and--"

"Well, at all events, the acquaintance progressed most pleasantly and rapidly, as my daughter's acquaintance is apt to progress; and it resulted in an equally pleasant understanding that the four young gentlemen were to come to a little festivity we are giving in honor of Polly's birthday,--a garden party in our grounds, between the hours of six and nine. This is the occasion of our present visit, Brother Bart. Fearing that travelling facilities might not be at the young gentlemen's disposal, we have come to take them to Beach Cliff. If you would like to accompany them--"

"To a party, is it?" exclaimed Brother Bart, in dismay. "Me at a party! Sure I'd look and feel queer indeed in such a place." Brother Bart's glance turned from the fine boat to the gentleman before him; he felt the responsibilities of his position were growing perplexing. "It will be great sport for the boys, I am sure," he added; "and I don't like to say 'No,' after all yer kindness in coming for them. But how are they to get back?"

"Oh, we'll see to that!" answered Mr. Forester, cheerfully. "They will be home and safe in your care, by half-past ten,--I promise you that."

"Hooray!--hooray!" rose the shout, that the boys who had been listening breathlessly to this discussion could no longer repress.

There was a wild rush to the shining decks of "The Polly," and soon all her pretty passengers were helped ashore, to scramble and climb as well as their dainty little feet could over the rocks and steeps of Killykinick, to wonder at the gardens and flowers blooming in its nooks and crannies, to peep into cow house and chicken house, and even old Neb's galley,--to explore the "Lady Jane" from stem to stern in delighted amazement.

Nell and Gracie, who were a little older than their cousin, took possession of Jim and Dud; their small brother Tad attached himself to Freddy, who was about his own age; while Polly claimed her own especial find, Dan, for escort and guide.

"Oh, what a queer, queer place!" she prattled, as, after peering cautiously into the depths of the Devil's Jaw, they wended their way to safer slopes, where the rocks were wreathed with hardy vines, and the sea stretched smiling into the sunlit distan............