"He's constable. He caught the burglars, y'know, right in the face 'n eyes of two policemen from Lanesport. An' when they got away, Eb pretty near bust his biler. He got his possy together again, an' he says he'll have 'em back if it takes a leg, an' when he gets 'em he'll set over 'em night an' day, with a shot-gun. Gee!" He hit the horse another slap with the reins, and then turned to grin at me through a gap where four front teeth were missing. He was a jolly looking boy, with a round, red face like the rising moon. "I wouldn't like to be them burglars, when Eb ketches hold of 'em again," he continued. "No, sir. Why, Eb arrested two fellers last summer for haulin' Levi Sanborn's lobster-pots,--he took an' tied 'em back to back an' carried 'em over to Lanesport in his boat, an' turned 'em over to the police. One feller got six months in the House of C'rrection. Gee! You're goin' to Bailey's, aint yer?" "No, I'm going to Rogers's Island." "You be? Why, the excursion aint till tomorrow!" I said "What excursion?" before I thought. "Why, the Comp'ny. Aint you heard 'bout the Comp'ny? Gran'father's goin'. Everbody's goin'. Don't you live in Lanesport?" "No, I don't know anything about it. What is it,--a picnic? How many people live there,--on Rogers's Island?" "Didn't no one live there--till 'bout a month ago. Then those two gen'lemen came,--the P'fessor an' Mr. Snider. The house had been empty for a year an' a half,--ever since old man Rogers died. He was the last of the fam'ly, an' his folks have owned the island an' lived in the house ever since the first one of 'em come over in the 'Mayflower' or with Christopher C'lumbus, or somebody. When Gran'father was a boy there was twenty-seven of 'em livin' there, an' nineteen of 'em was children. Gee! there must have been a mob,--all in one house! But they've been dyin' off, or movin' away or somethin', an' when old man Rogers died there wasn't no one for him to leave the prop'ty to but a hospittle or somethin'. An' the hospittle aint never come to live there, or nothin', an' it's stayed empty. I went over there once last summer, an' peeked into the winders. ... But Mr. Snider an' the P'fessor are there now,-- they hired the whole island to 'stablish the Comp'ny on." He stopped the car for some passengers,--two women and two little girls who had been picking flowers beside the road. One of the women commenced to ask questions and I did not get much chance to talk with him again until we came to the end of the line, at the causeway leading to Bailey's Harbor. I decided not to linger at this point, but merely stopped to ask the boy if I would be able to get a boat to row to Rogers's Island. "You won't want one," said he, "there's a bridge. You'll find it all dry walkin'."