rdy breakwater made a miniature harbor in which several small boats
floated at their moorings; a whitewashed wharf jutted out into the waves;
the stretch of rocky shore beyond had been roughly terraced into easy
approach.

"Easy now, boys,--easy!" warned Brother Bart anxiously, as the "Sary Ann"
grated against her home pier, and Captain Jeroboam proceeded to make fast.
"Don't be leaping off till you know the way."

But Brother Bart might have called to the dashing waves. This Killykinick
was very different from the desert they had expected; and, with shouts of
delight from Jim, Dud and Dan, even little Freddy sprang ashore. Shrubs
and trees of strange growth nodded and waved amid the rocks; here and
there in sheltered crannies were beds of blooming flowers; and in the lee
of a towering rock that kept off the fury of storm and wind stood the very
queerest house the young explorers had ever seen.

XI.--AT KILLYKINICK.

It was a ship,--a ship with its keel settled deep in the sand, and held
immovable against wind and storm by a rudely built foundation wall of
broken rock. The sunlight blinked cheerfully from the dozen portholes; the
jutting prow bore the weather-worn figurehead of the "Lady Jane,"--minus a
nose and arm, it is true, but holding her post bravely still. Stout
canvas, that could be pegged down or lifted into breezy shelter, roofed
the deck, from which arose the "lookout," a sort of light tower built
around a mast that upheld a big ship lantern; while the Stars and Stripes
floated in glory over all.

For a moment the four young travellers stared breathless at this
remarkable edifice, while Freddy eagerly explained:

"It's my Great-uncle Joe's ship that was wrecked here on Killykinick. He
had sailed in her for years and loved her, and he didn't want to leave her
to fall to pieces on the rocks; and so he got a lot of men, with chains
and ropes and things, and moved her up here and made her into a house."

And a first-class house the "Lady Jane" made, as all the boys agreed when
they proceeded to investigate Great-uncle Joe's legacy. True, there was a
lack of modern conveniences. The sea lapping the sands to the right was
the only bath-room, but what finer one could a boy ask? There was neither
dining room nor kitchen; only the "galley," as Captain Jeb, who came up
shortly to do the honors of this establishment, explained to his guests.
The "galley" was a queer little narrow place in the stern, lined