"You must tell me all about this," he said, when they were once aboard
the yacht, "but not a word until after we've had a wee lunch."
The steward brought dainty sandwiches, cakes, fruit and hot chocolate,
and the happy little trio enjoyed it heartily, partly because it was a
delicious spread, but far more because of their feeling of safety after
their terror.
The children had been frightened, but bright, cheery Uncle John had
suffered more than he would have admitted when, through his powerful
glass, he had seen the two little occupants of the rowboat crouching
close together, rocked at the will of the waves and going steadily out
to the open sea.
He knew that it would take but a short time to reach them, but would
they remember what he had so often told them?
If they should change places in the boat and thus capsize it, no yacht
could reach them in time to save them!
Now, with Polly and Rose beside him, safe and sound, he felt as if a
heavy cloud had lifted.
After the lunch had been enjoyed, Uncle John asked for the story of
their plight, and together they told it, telling of the start with
Donald, of his sullenness, his anger, and his muttered threat.
"I don't know SURELY, TRULY, what he said, but I thought he said:
"'I'll get even with them,' and Polly thought so, too," concluded Rose.
"And after he'd said that, he wouldn't talk at all," said Polly.
"And we thought he'd fastened the boat when we saw him hitching one end
of the chain to the big ring," said Rose, "and he waded out to the
shore, and ran off up the beach with another boy.
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