“You simply will save our lives,” Ellen said fervently. “It came to a question whether we should miss the train or miss taking Beulah. We simply couldn’t stand appearing in New York with Beulah’s impedimenta.” Mr. Hale laughed. “I don’t blame you. Just leave the whole business to me and I’ll promise to see you through. I’m used to doing things on short order, as you would find out if you lived at our house.” He dashed up the stairs, Ellen after him, as soon as they reached the house. Miss Rindy was just locking the trunk, which Mr. Hale promptly shouldered, and in a few minutes they were at the station, Beulah still clinging to the bag which contained her rose-wreathed hat, for this she refused to relinquish. The train was in sight when they reached the platform, so there was little time for good-bys. Caro was there to give Ellen a parting embrace, Frank came to the fore with magazines and a box of candy, to Jeremy promptly was handed over the key. With the use of her cane Miss Rindy nimbly mounted the steps of the car, Beulah was boosted after her, and Ellen, waving farewells, stood in the doorway as the train moved off. It was fortunate she was there, for at the very last moment Mr. Hale ran alongside to thrust the check for the trunk into her hand. “Just did make it,” he cried, then stood back to make a farewell gesture and they were off. Ellen sank into the seat by her cousin’s side. “What a relief,” she sighed. “It was a close shave, wasn’t it?” “Couldn’t have been much closer. It’s just as I always say, Ellen; it is safer to be half an hour too early than one minute too late. If we had not been prompt ourselves, there’s no telling what might have happened. It’s lucky we checked our own trunks yesterday.” Beulah, in serene possession of her hat, sat complacently looking out of the window. From time to time she produced from some obscure pocket some article of food of which she partook with evident enjoyment. First it was a banana, then a ginger snap, next some bread and cheese, an apple, a strip of pink and white candy, then peanuts. To enliven the journey, once in a while she waddled to the water cooler. When the train boy came through she supplied herself with various other comestibles and began all over again. To eat was to live, in Beulah’s opinion. “She’ll probably acquire a larger appetite up in that bracing climate,” Ellen whispered to her cousin. “Then let us be thankful that it is Miss Wickham and not we who will pay the store bills,” replied Miss Rindy. They were joined by Miss Wickham in New York, and by noon the next day were aboard a small steamer which wound its way through a many-islanded bay to a quiet cove, and presently Beatty’s Island was reached. A tall, stalwart old man with weather-beaten face, shrewd blue eyes, and white chin-whiskers was on the lookout for them. “Cap’n Belah, Cap’n Belah,” Mabel called, “were you looking for us?”