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Updated: June 8, 2025
"And did they never get her up?" asked Dan, quite breathless with interest at this glimpse of a "dying saint's" past. "Never," answered Father Mack, "at least never that I heard of. It was soon afterward that I turned into other ways and lost sight of my old mates. But I always have remembered the friendly haven of Killykinick.
"And now where is this seashore place?" asked Father Mack, quite cheerfully. "An island called Killykinick, Father." "Killykinick?" echoed Father Mack, startled. "You are going to Killykinick? God bless me, how wonderful!" "You know the place, Father?" asked Dan, with interest. "I know it indeed," was the answer. "I was wrecked there in the wild days of which I told you, Dan, sixty years ago.
And Dan sprang to his feet, and the college cry went ringing over the moonlit rocks. "It's St. Andrew's for Dan Dolan, now forever!" The rest of that evening seemed a bewildering dream to Dan, more bewildering even than Miss Polly's party. The story of his medal and his luck went flying around Killykinick, with most dazzling additions.
Though Dud and Jim, who both had pocket money in plenty, made arrangements at the Boat Club for the use of a little motor boat several times a week, Dan held his own line as second mate at Killykinick, and was contented to share old Neb's voyaging. They went out often now; for, under the old sailor's guidance, Dan was becoming an expert fisherman.
He got him out of many a tight place on the strength of that medal; and he would have looked out for him until the last, but he shipped on an East Indian, and drifted out of our reach. And this medal was left here by a boy, you say, my man?" "Good!" said the old Captain, eagerly. "I'll give him his price. Who and where is the boy?" "His name is Dan Dolan and he lives at Killykinick."
Between the shock, the excitement of his rescue by the life-savers, he is very, very ill, too ill to be removed to a hospital; and he is at Killykinick with only boys and men to care for him," continued Father Rayburn. "The doctors tell me an experienced nurse is necessary, and we can find none willing to take so serious a case in such a rude, remote place.
"Rather die!" exclaimed Father Regan, "rather die than go to Killykinick!" "Killykinick!" echoed Dan, breathlessly. "You're not not sending me to a Reform, Father?" "Reform!" repeated the priest. "For I won't go," said Dan, desperately. "You haven't any right to put me there. I'm not wild and bad enough for that. I'll keep honest and respectable. I'll go to work.
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.
Some of these islands, more sheltered than Killykinick, were fringed with a thick growth of hardy evergreens, hollowed into coves and inlets, where the waves, broken in their wild, free sweep, lapped low-shelving shores and invited gentle adventure. On one of these pleasant outposts was the college camp; and half a dozen pretty girl graduates, in "middies" and khaki skirts, came down to meet Dan.
Brightest of all these to Danny is Killykinick, where he goes every summer to spend a happy holiday, to boat, to swim, to fish, to be "matey" again with the two old men, who look for his coming as the joy of the year. "It's hurrah! hurrah, Aunt Win!" he wrote jubilantly one glad summer day. "Your Danny is at work before time, doing a little missionary business already.
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