"Thank you," she simply said to him and to Flora. "It is wonderful for you to tell this, after all these years, for my father's and my sake. I can see why you never told of your command to my father when he disappeared and you believed that no one would be hurt by your silence. Admiral Gifford, in these last few weeks since I have been here near Fortress Monroe I have come to know what an officer's reputation means to him. If my father is dead, I shall ask you never to tell what you have just told us, but, if he is alive and we find him, Admiral Gifford, you will have to do as your conscience dictates. On the night when Miss Harris denounced my father I declared that I could retaliate. I knew at that time what you have just told me. A few days before we came to Old Point I was going through my mother's trunk. In a secret compartment of her jewel box I found a letter in my father's handwriting addressed to her, and a little black log book. The book told the story of my father's dark hour, the letter to my mother was the out-pouring of his tortured heart. Through it I learned the name of the man whose reputation he saved at the cost of his own honor. I made a vow, then, that I would find this man and force him to clear my father's name, but when I learned on that bitter night that it was an old man, who had been considered worthy of an admiralship, I weakened. I felt that my father would not wish such retaliation even to bring back his good name. That was my secret. I am glad I did not tell. Now everything has worked out beautifully. Oh, yes, there is just one thing more. We will never tell just how the houseboat happened to break away from her moorings." "Right you are, Little Captain," said Phyllis, saluting. The others echoed Phyllis's sentiments. Flora Harris was deeply touched; as for her grandfather, he placed his hands on Madge's shoulders and, looking down into her eyes of true blue, kissed the loyal little captain almost reverently on her white forehead. "God bless you, my dear," he said solemnly. "You are Robert Morton's own daughter." After Flora and her grandfather had gone the girls spent the time until luncheon relating their further island adventures to Mrs. Curtis and Tom. It had been decided that they take the train for Miss Tolliver's the following afternoon, and after remaining to luncheon with the Curtises they were to go down to the wharf to find out whether their houseboat had been picked up and towed to a landing near them. When they reached the dock at a little after two o'clock it was to find the "Merry Maid" bobbing listlessly at the end of a strong rope cable. Tom Curtis had sent out a swift sea-going launch which had sighted her and picked her up within a few hours after it had started out. "Hurrah for the 'Merry Maid'!" sang out Madge. "You can't lose her." "Hurrah for the little captain!" cried Phyllis. "We can't get along without her."