The tender came slowly alongside the "Princess" steps, taking on board the passengers from the hotel. Cosden and Huntington both appeared from different directions as the gang-plank was drawn up and the little steamer's screw began to churn. Huntington was out of breath, but not empty-handed--he carried with him a bag which showed evidences of hectic packing, with pajama strings hanging out from the partially closed top. "He hadn't even packed his things!" Huntington panted indignantly. "Stay here a moment," Cosden said, leaving him standing irresolutely at the top of the stone steps, watching the stretch of water increase between the departing tender and the pier. "Please turn this way," Edith called, leveling her camera at him from the piazza rail. "I want to be sure to get that suit-case into the picture." "Wait until Connie comes back," Huntington begged. At that moment a disheveled figure appeared running frantically up the "Princess" driveway. "I've lost my boat!" Billy cried with well-simulated despair. "You did it deliberately, you young rascal!" Huntington cried, aroused at last to exasperation. "Uncle Monty!" Billy's face wore an injured expression which would have fitted a Raphael cherub. "You know I wouldn't have missed that boat for anything. I'm sure to be rooked if I'm not in Cambridge Thursday." Cosden joined them in time to hear Billy's expostulations. "We couldn't let that happen," he said comfortingly. "Come on; I've fixed it up with the jolly skipper in this motor-boat. He swears he can reach the 'Arcadian' before the tender does. Quick! there isn't a minute to lose!" "But I haven't packed my bag--" "Here it is!" Huntington removed Billy's one remaining hope, and the boy saw that he was fairly beaten. The broad grin returned to his face as he took his bag. "That's mighty good of you, Mr. Cosden," he said, with such apparent sincerity that it disarmed his uncle's wrath. "There aren't many men who would help a fellow out like that. I won't forget it!" He ran down the stone steps and took his place in the stern of the motor-boat. "Good-bye, everybody! Say, Uncle Monty, explain to Merry why I didn't have time to say 'good-bye' to her, and don't forget that this joy-ride is on Mr. Cosden. Good-bye!" They watched the little boat speed after the tender, which by this time had reached the narrows; then they turned back to the piazza. "We've succeeded in making ourselves fairly conspicuous," Cosden remarked. "A good deal of fuss over one small boy, eh, Monty?" "Thank you so much!" Edith cried enthusiastically as they joined her. "I haven't seen so much excitement since I arrived,--and I love to watch two live men in action." "It's frightful, being stared at, isn't it?" Cosden protested.