At two o’clock to the minute the _Vagabond’s_ anchor came up over the bow, and very dirty it was, to Dan’s disgust, and the propeller began to revolve. Out around West Chop Lighthouse and the stone jetty went the _Vagabond_, white paint glistening in the sunlight and bright-work sparkling gayly, while from the flag poles the launch’s bunting fluttered in the little westerly breeze. Then Dan, at the wheel, turned the boat’s head southwest and they met the waters of the Sound on the quarter as they sped for Quicks Hole. It was a glorious afternoon and the Four, protected from the sun by the awning, found life very enjoyable. The engine was doing her very best, taking kindly to the last lot of gasoline. They had about forty miles ahead of them and meant to cover it by half-past five. At a little after three they were in Quicks Hole, bobbing about gayly in the wake of a steamer. “Wonder why they called these the Elizabeth Islands?” said Tom. “After Queen Elizabeth, maybe,” hazarded Bob. “And do you suppose Nonamesset, Uncatena, Naushon, and the rest of them were her children?” asked Tom. “Well,” laughed Bob, “I never heard that she had any children.” “Oh, that’s so,” murmured Tom sheepishly, “I forgot.” “I hope,” remarked Nelson solicitously, “that English History wasn’t among the subjects in which you were examined for admission to Erskine, Tommy.” “Say!” cried Tom. “I’d ought to hear pretty soon about that exam. Maybe the letter will be at Newport!” “Want to turn back?” asked Bob. “I—I’d almost like to,” admitted Tom. “Oh, you’ve made it all right, Tommy,” Dan consoled. “The cheek of trying to get from third year at Hillton to Erskine so flabbergasted them that they passed you before they recovered.” “I hope so,” said Tom anxiously. “If I’ve missed it I’ll——” But they were alongside the steamer by that time and Tom forgot the subject of admission to Erskine College in the excitement of passing the big boat. There were not many persons aboard her, but what there were flocked to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs or caps. Bob gave a blast on the whistle and Dan peered out from the edge of the awning and blew a kiss. Ten minutes later the steamer was far behind and the _Vagabond_ was churning her way across the waters of Buzzard’s Bay, with Sakonnet Point beckoning them ahead. Before five they were in Narragansett Bay and at twenty-two minutes past were tied up at the landing of the New York Yacht Club House. They made hurriedly for the post office and were rewarded with a whole bundle of mail. “Bear up bravely, Tommy,” said Nelson, who was sorting it over. “Here’s an epistle postmarked ‘Centerport.’” “Oh, gosh!” muttered Tom as he took it. The others were too much interested in receiving and outwardly examining their own letters to think further of Tom for several minutes. Then, as they turned to leave the office, Dan remembered. “What’s the verdict, Tommy?” he asked. Tommy shook his head silently.