"Oly Littlefield? Land's sake! He _says_ he was powder-monkey with Farragut, runnin' the Mississippi blockade in the Civil War, and lost it then. That would make him 'bout eighty years old, if he was a day," said Miss Ball. "But anybody can see he ain't more'n sixty or so. I guess Oly Littlefield is a dog-awful story-teller--that's what I guess. But everybody on the island seems to have forgot--if they ever knew--just when and how Oly come by that wooden laig. "I can't remember when Oly didn't have it, 'cept the time he lay down an' fell asleep over on Dicken's Point, and some of the West Side school children stole the laig and Oly stayed there all night before he was found. He roared for help half the night, but the folks at Dickenses thought it was a seal roarin' on the rocks, and paid no 'tention to him till daybreak." Carolyn May shook her head in much disappointment. The mystery of the wooden legs seemed just as puzzling--and quite as unlikely to be solved--as ever. CHAPTER XVI ARRIVALS I was sometimes a sharp race for the bus drivers from the Old Harbour to the New Harbour and return, when the two regular boats came in. But on Thursday the boat due to make the breach of the Great Salt Pond and disembark her passengers at the New Harbour landing, was sighted almost an hour before the boat from Newport came into view. So there was plenty of time for Captain Littlefield to drive over with Worry and Trouble to meet the new clerk of the Truefelt House and his family; and the captain took Carolyn and Prince on the driver's seat with him. "I'm so excited!" said Carolyn May, fairly bounding up and down on the slippery cushion. "To think that my pale lady and her baby are really, truly coming here to Block Island for the summer! Do you know, Mr. Cap'n Littlefield, this island is a very nice place and the folks on it are awfully nice--most of them, anyway; but there's not anybody just like my pale lady. _You'll_ see!" It was quite true that Captain Littlefield had never seen many people like Baby Laird's mother, as Carolyn insisted upon calling her friend when her husband helped her off the boat and into the hotel bus. And the poor little baby! They were both at the point of exhaustion. "Dear little Carolyn May," murmured the pale lady, snuggling the little girl beside her upon the seat of the bus. "It was so dear of you to remember us. I feel already that I shall get better--Baby Laird, too." Even her husband seemed to think that Carolyn had much to do with opening the way for their coming to the island. He shook hands gravely with the little girl. "I fancy your father is right, Carolyn," he said. "You are prone to interfere in everybody's affairs, but always to a good end. I thank you for recalling me to Ben Truefelt's mind."