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Updated: May 17, 2025
How the four at the oars pulled the heavy boat! Tunis sought to identify them as well. He saw John-Ed Williams in a place at last where he was forced to keep up his end, though he was notably a lazy man. Ben Brewster had the oar directly behind John-Ed. The third figure Tunis could not identify not at once. The man at the bow oar was Marvin Pike, who pulled a splendid stroke.
It was an old lifeboat that had been stored in a shed below John-Ed Williams' place, and these men attempting their rescue were some of the neighbors from Wreckers' Head. They came on steadily, the steersman standing at his post and handling the long oar as though it was a feather's weight. His huge figure soon identified him.
I wonder I didn't jump clean through the bottom of that feed box when I was just reaching down to get a measure of oats." "Aunt Prue," Tunis interposed, "why do you keep the little tad of feed you have to buy for Queenie in this big old chest?" "There!" Cap'n Ira hastened to rejoin, glad likewise to turn the trend of conversation. "That's all that dratted boy's doings, little John-Ed Williams.
"She's playing she's a castaway. Nobody but me knows it." Then, fearing he had said too much, John-Ed ran away. Tunis descended the bluff by a perilous path he would not delay to go around by the cart track and came in plain view of the cabin. The door hinge had been repaired, and the door now swung freely. A strip of cotton cloth had been tacked over the gaping window.
She did not follow the same course that the captain and Queenie had followed on that memorable occasion, but took a path that led to a cart track to the beach behind John-Ed Williams' house. Nobody was astir anywhere on Wreckers' Head but herself. In an hour she arrived at the objective point toward which she had been headed from the first.
There was an ancient carryall in the barn, and on the Saturday previous little John-Ed was caught and made to clean this vehicle, rub up the green-molded harness, and give the Queen of Sheba more than "a lick and a promise" with the currycomb and brush. At ten o'clock on Sunday morning Sheila herself backed the gray mare out of her stable and harnessed her into the shafts of the carryall.
Little John-Ed, however, told nobody of her whereabouts until the day Tunis Latham came back from Boston and learned that the girl he loved had stolen away from her home in the Ball house. Coming out of the rear door of the barn, fresh from the interview with the old captain which had so shocked him, Tunis saw a small boy astride the low stone fence that marked the rear boundary of the Ball farm.
She explained her design to her juvenile confidant and little John-Ed was made immensely proud of such mark of her trust. She could have found no more faithful adherent than the boy, and with him the secret of her dwelling on the lonely shore and in her hermit-like state was safe. But her presence there could not be hidden for long; of that she was well aware.
"I bet 'twas that Tunis Latham told him you was here," continued John-Ed. "Anyway, don't blame me. All I done was to help him down the path." He disappeared. Sheila stepped to the door. Cap'n Ira was laboring over the sands toward the cabin, leaning on his cane, his coat flapping in the wind and his cap screwed on so tightly that a hurricane could not possibly have blown it away.
She gave little John-Ed the dollar and her list and warned him to hide her purchases safely until the next morning and bring them to her on his way to school. "What you going to eat to-night?" he asked her bluntly. "I dug some clams at low water and caught a big horseshoe crab." "Cousin Phineas brought us more squeteague than we can eat. Mom told me to cut one up for the hens.
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