“It has,” admitted Paul. “I’m a lot stronger than I used to be, and I’ve learned to do things, too. But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Dan,” and he proceeded to tell briefly the story of their adventures, heaping upon Dan so much credit that the latter’s modesty forced him to interject stammering objections now and again. Mrs. Densmore was highly incensed at Factor MacTavish’s treatment of them, and the fact that Paul had actually been forced to work at manual labor for his living shocked her terribly, but brought a twinkle of downright satisfaction to Densmore’s eyes. It was a happy party that boarded the train that evening for New York. Dan was exceedingly shy at first, but he was soon made to feel that he was one of them and presently felt quite at ease. Remington, entirely forgiven by Mrs. Densmore, was jolly as he could be, and declared that Paul had far outstripped him as a sportsman, and when Paul and he went together again on an expedition, as they surely must, Paul would be the teacher and he the pupil. Densmore’s big touring car was waiting for them when the train drew into the Grand Central Station at eight o’clock in the morning. Here Dr. Philpot bade them adieu as they sped away toward Riverside Drive. “It’s great to be back in New York!” declared Paul. “Lots of times I wondered if I’d ever get home again.” His mother pressed his hand but did not trust herself to speak. “Here we are! That’s our house, Dan!” said Paul gaily, as the car drew in behind a cab standing at the curb. A man, his back turned toward them, stood on the sidewalk engaged in a heated controversy with the cabman. When the car stopped they heard him saying, in loud, gruff tones: “You’re a pirate, sir! Yes, sir, a pirate! You deserve to have your neck wrung! By the imps of the sea! You deserve to have your neck wrung! But here’s your money! Take it! Take it! Take it! Four times what the cruise were worth! Yes, four times! Get away with your old craft! Get away!” “’Tis the skipper! ’Tis the skipper, sure!” exclaimed Dan, highly excited. The two boys sprang from the car without ceremony and ran to Captain Bluntt, who, indeed, it was, as he turned to survey his surroundings, his bushy red beard bristling in indignation. “By the imps of the sea!” he exclaimed. “’Tis the youngsters!” He grasped a hand of each, the look of indignation in his face giving place to one of high pleasure. “You rascals! You rascals! Is this two o’clock? Weren’t I telling you scamps t’ be aboard at two o’clock? Yes, two o’clock sharp! Two o’clock!” “How’s Mother an’ Dad?” asked Dan anxiously. “Well. Very well, last I heard from un. Gone in mournin’ for you. Yes, you rascal! Gone in mournin’ for you! Hard blow, your death was to un! Hard blow! Yes, you rascal! How do, Mr. Remington? How do? Glad to see you! Happier times than when we sees each other last!” “Captain Bluntt, this is my mother and this is my father,” broke in Paul, introducing them.