“You’re not half so glad as I am,” exclaimed Harvey. “You bet I’m glad we didn’t harm it. It’s safe and sound, and you wouldn’t guess where it is in a hundred years. It’s up in the old haunted house, stuffed away in the garret, under the eaves. We didn’t dare keep it and we didn’t want to destroy it. In fact, we had decided to put it back on the point some day, after we had kept it as long as we wanted to.” “We’ll set it up again this afternoon,” cried Tom. “No, you won’t,” answered Harvey, quickly. “We’re going to do that for you, that is, if you will let us. We want to put it up in as good shape as it was before. We’ll feel better about it then, eh, fellows?” “That’s right,” responded Joe Hinman. And the others nodded assent. “Now, one thing more,” said Harvey. “You saw what we had in the cave. There were some things that belonged to Spencer, and one of the first things I do to-day will be to go up there and settle up with him. Then I’ll feel as though I was ready to start fair again. “And now if you fellows will sit down and have some breakfast with us, then we’ll sail up right after it and get the tent and have it up for you just as quick as we can. We can’t do it any too quick to suit us.” So Tom and Bob seated themselves with their new-found friends. George Baker, who had the fry-pan all heated and a big dish of batter mixed, proceeded to fry a mess of flapjacks, while Joe Hinman poured the coffee. All the old enmity had vanished in a night, and they laughed and joked as they sat about the campfire like friends of long standing. Then, when they had finished, and had shaken hands once more all around, and Tom and Bob had departed for the Warren cottage to explain their strange absence, and to acquaint the Warrens with the new turn of affairs, Harvey and his crew got sail on the _Surprise_ and headed up alongshore for the haunted house. “There,” cried George Warren, as the boys appeared in sight a little later, “didn’t I tell you, mother, not to worry about Tom and Bob? You ought to know them by this time. They know how to take care of themselves.” “Well, the next time you go off for all night,” exclaimed Mrs. Warren, a little impatiently for her, “I wish you would let me know about it beforehand. I don’t like to have to worry about you, and I can’t help it if you start off in that canoe and don’t come back.” “I don’t blame you for not liking it,” replied Tom, “and we’ll try not do it again. But we really couldn’t help this. We met with an adventure.” “What, you didn’t see the _Eagle_, did you?” cried George Warren. “No, you’re wide of the mark,” laughed Tom. “We’ve given up that hunt for good. No, we had a different sort of an adventure altogether. Where do you suppose we slept last night?” “With Henry Burns,” said young Joe. “No.” “Down on the beach?” said Arthur. “No.” “Give it up,” said George. “Well, you wouldn’t guess in a hundred times trying,” said Tom, “so I’ll tell you. It was in Jack Harvey’s camp.”