“I hope not,” said Roy. “Did you have much in her?” Billy shook his head. “No, not much. Just a few clothes and a few books and the can of mushrooms. I guess I’ll never eat those mushrooms,” he added sadly. Fate proved kind, after all, for they came on the runaway boat about a mile below Silver Cove, stranded in a little natural harbor. They returned to the Cove and Billy went off to find some one to rescue his craft while the others started on a shopping tour. They had lots of things to buy for Harry’s birthday supper, for besides their own list Mr. Cole had asked them to bring back supplies for the _Jolly Roger_. It was over an hour before the last purchase had been made. And then, when everything had been stowed aboard the _Pup_, Chub announced the fact that they had neglected to stop at the post-office for their mail. So, while they waited for Billy Noon, he went back uptown. When he returned he wore a long face. “Bad news?” asked Roy anxiously. Chub nodded. “I got a letter from dad,” he answered. “He says I must come home.” “How soon?” asked Dick after a moment of sorrowful silence. “This week, he says, and here it is Thursday already. The letter was written Monday.” “By Jove, that’s too bad,” said Roy. “I wonder what made him change his mind.” “Oh, I know what it means,” said Chub disgustedly. “It means that he can’t find any one to play golf with him, and so he sends for me. He doesn’t mind breaking up _my_ fun.” “Well, I guess that settles camp,” said Roy. “Were there any other letters, Chub?” “Oh, yes, I beg your pardon, Dick. There’s one for you, from your father.” He took it out of his pocket and handed it across. Dick opened it and ran his eyes quickly down the single sheet of paper. “Me too!” he cried. “Dad says he’s coming across and I’m to meet him in New York. He sailed three days after he wrote, and he wrote on Saturday week. He’s on his way now, then, and ought to be here next Tuesday.” “Well, I guess we’ll shut up camp,” laughed Roy. “It’s mighty mean, though,” said Chub. “Why, we haven’t been here a month yet!” “Look here, though,” Roy said. “There’s no use in spoiling Harry’s fun to-day. So we won’t say anything about it until to-morrow, eh?” “Right you are,” Chub replied. “It’s her birthday and she ought to be allowed to enjoy it. I suppose I’ll have to leave Saturday morning. How about you, Dickums?” “Well, I might as well go then, too.” “We’ll all go down Saturday morning on the eleven o’clock,” said Roy. “That’ll give us to-morrow to pack up and get ready. Well, we’ve had a bully good time, haven’t we?” “Sure,” answered Chub and Dick in unison. “But I wish there was going to be more of it; that’s all,” added Dick. “Why not?” asked Roy. “There’s next summer, you know.” “That’s so! Will you come up? Will you, Chub?” “Yes,” said Roy, and Chub echoed him. Dick looked more cheerful. “That’s the ticket!” he said joyfully. “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you fellows again until I got to--to college.”