you couldn't have helped yourselves."

In spite of the words of the animated girl, who apparently now had
recovered her spirits and strength, it was plain to the boys that she
was genuinely grateful for the rescue which they had made. She was a
deeply interested spectator of the work of the boys in casting off and
starting their swift boat and even insisted upon being permitted to
steer part of the way.

"Have you joined the yacht club yet?" she inquired.

"What's that?" demanded George.

"Why the St. Lawrence Yacht Club. I am sure Fred's grandfather must
belong and probably that will be enough of an introduction. We have
some fine times there. Tennis all day, dances in the evenings and I
don't know what all. You must be sure to come over there."

"You may be sure we'll come," spoke up George promptly. "Now I want to
know," he added, "what our reward is to be for our heroic rescue of two
forlorn maidens who were sinking in the cold waters of the St. Lawrence
River."

"I think virtue will have to be its own reward in this case," laughed
Mildred. "You ought to be satisfied with the honor you have won."

Fortunately the island which Mr. Stevens had rented was not far distant
and not many minutes had elapsed before it was plainly seen by them all.

Before a landing was made, however, Miss Susie Stevens had suggested
numerous plans for picnics, cruises among the islands, meetings for
tennis at the yacht club and various other methods by which the days
were to be passed.

As soon as their passengers departed, the Black Growler was headed
swiftly for Chestnut Island, the name by which the place owned by
Fred's grandfather was commonly called.

Upon their arrival they were informed that already Mr. Button had
telephoned for Sam Hodge and that he had received word that the man
would arrive the following morning.

"I hope he'll bring all his legs, and arms with him," suggested George
with a laugh.

"What do you mean?" inquired Mr. Button.

"Why, he has a choice assortment," explained George. "It seems he used
to work in a shop on Broome Street in New York City where they make
legs and heads and arms for dummies."

"I don't understand yet," said Mr. Button blankly.

"Why, these wax figures that they have in the windows," explained Fred.
"It was in a place where they make them that Sam Hodge worked and he
made us all laugh when we took him on at Henderson Harbor. He was
telling us about the boss throwing his leg