Though she was approaching the point, it was by no means certain that she intended to make a landing there. The boat she was towing was astern of her, and Paul could not see it plainly, as the hull of the yacht obstructed his view. As on all occasions, he determined to do the best he could. Running back to the house, he borrowed a tablecloth of reddish hue, and fastened it to the oar. Elevating it as a signal to the "Goldwing," he held it in position at the very apex of the point. Lily and her mother were not inclined to join him, for they did not feel in the mood to meet any young men, however civil they might be. They remained seated on the steps of the cottage; but they watched the sails of the yacht with as deep an interest as Paul did, for it was at least possible that the party on board of her might help them in their present dire emergency. "She is headed for the point!" shouted Paul, when he had satisfied himself of the fact. "I pray that a kind Providence has sent her to our relief," replied Mrs. Bristol. Paul watched her with the most intense interest. When the "Goldwing" was within a quarter of a mile of the point, the party on board of her waved their handkerchiefs as a reply to Paul's signal. The hopes of the watcher on the shore ran high, but he could not yet see whether or not she had the "Dragon" in tow. Sandy Point was a kind of double cape. It was shaped like a letter T. The cottage was on the northeast point, inside of which was Sandy Bay, where the Beech Hill students sometimes came to bathe. The other arm of the point extended to the southwest, and inside of it was the station of the boats belonging to the institute. "Is that you, Paul Bristol?" shouted some one on board of the "Goldwing." "Yes! Is Dory Dornwood on board?" replied Paul. "He is! Have you lost a flatboat?" called the speaker from the yacht. "I have!" The schooner kept well off the point, and appeared now to be headed for the shore on the opposite side of Sandy Point. As she came abreast of the shore, Paul saw that she had the "Dragon" and her tender in tow. The return of the "Dragon" was a godsend, even if nothing else resulted from the visit of the yacht. The "Goldwing" ran over towards the opposite shore, and then tacked. The wind was light inside of the bay, and the schooner circled gracefully about, coming up into the wind off the point where Paul stood. Down went her jib in the twinkling of an eye, and over went her anchor. In a moment she had come up to her cable, with her mainsail fluttering in the breeze. One of the party hauled up the "Dragon," and, casting off the painter, sculled her ashore with the single oar that remained on board of her. "This is your boat, I suppose," said Tucker Prince, one of the new students of the Beech Hill Industrial School, as he stepped on shore with the painter in his hand. "It is my boat, and I owe you a thousand thanks for bringing her back to me," replied Paul.