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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"The Ne'er-Do-Well"

"
"That means we'll have to get another boat."
"I don't know where we shall find one."
"Neither do I, but there must be some sort of craft that plies
back and forth regularly."
"Only once or twice a week, I believe, and it belongs to the
sanitarium." She nodded toward some buildings perched upon a point
farther around the bay. "Mr. Cortlandt looked it up before leaving
and found the boat doesn't run on Sundays, so he hired that
launch. Perhaps we'd better wait awhile; our men may come back."
They found seats in the square and were grateful for the rest; but
an hour passed and the sun was getting low, while no sign of their
truant craft appeared.
"There must be sail-boats to be had," said Kirk; but on inquiry
they learned that, although a few belonged to the island, they all
happened to be away. He suggested that they hire a man to row them
across.
"It's twelve miles," Edith demurred. "Do you think it would be
safe?"
He scanned the twilit sea and gave up the idea; for the afternoon
trades, balmy and soothing as they were, had lifted a swell that
would prove difficult for a skiff to navigate. Uneasily they
settled themselves for a further wait. At last, as the sun was
dipping into a bed of gold, Kirk broke out:
"Gee whiz! We've got to do SOMETHING.


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