"Yes,--when you don't miss of it," returned the boy, who had hung around the church steps to-day and peered within until he had satisfied himself that this was one of the missing days. He was a sufficiently docile attendant at the sanctuary whenever it meant staring for an hour at the back of Miss Derwent's head. "And whenever we miss, it is for some important reason," returned Edna impressively. "This is Mr. Dunham, Benny," for here John and Sylvia came up the steps. "He is a friend of mine from home. This is Benny Merritt, who is going to take us huckleberrying and blueberrying to-morrow." "Awfully good of you, Benny, I'm sure," said Dunham, throwing down the life-preserver, while Sylvia nodded at the boy and pulled off her oilskin cap. "Oh, he isn't taking you berrying. You wouldn't care for it, would you?" asked Edna. "I don't know. I'm like the fellow who was asked if he could play the violin. He said he didn't know, for he had never tried." Miss Lacey looked from one to another of the bathers, who were now sitting in the sun. She wondered what Mr. Dunham meant by talking about to-morrow. Was he not instantly going to get into his clothes and start on his way to the Tide Mill? The same question was flitting through Edna's brain. She wondered if her mother would approve her repeating the invitation to John to visit Anemone Cottage under present circumstances. The young man himself took possession of the situation. "Your arrival is very opportune, Benny," he said. "I've just been wondering who I could get to sail Mr. Johnson's boat back to the farm." Edna's eyelids lifted. She wondered if her old friend had determined to invite himself. "You know where the Tide Mill is, I suppose?" went on Dunham, for Benny looked unillumined. "It is Thinkright's boat he wishes to have sailed back," said Edna. "Oh, yes," answered Benny. "I know." "I'm going to investigate your island a little farther, Edna," said John. "I've found that there's a hostelry here. I can't bear to tear myself away in ten minutes." "To linger on Hawk Island is to be lost," returned Edna. "To change the song slightly,-- 'To see it is to love it, And love but it forever; For Nature made it what it is, And ne'er made sic anither.'" "Then here goes to lose myself," returned Dunham, "for you can't lose me. Benny, how are you going to get my boat home?" "Don't know," drawled Benny; "couldn't swim back agin." "Well, you could take it over to-morrow and get back somehow, couldn't you?" "Miss Edna, she wants to go berryin' to-morrer." "So do I, then," remarked Dunham. "You shall," laughed Edna. "We'll send another boy." "It's a worse problem than the fox and the goose and the corn," said John. "As Benny says, he can't swim back. I foresee a tragic future for Thinkright's boat, plying restlessly between Hawk Island and the Tide Mill, driven by the inexorable fate that hounded the Wandering Jew."