g himself.
He could not help being aware of a growing coolness on the part of his
associates, but it gave him no concern. His month of probation was
almost up, and he had decided that, come what might, he would leave at
its end. Only a few days more, and this hard, monotonous island life
would be behind him forever. He would send back a check to cover the
expense of his board, and that would permanently close his relations
with Spurling & Company.

This resolve to pay for meals and lodging gave him a feeling of
independence. Hence, though he knew the others did not care whether he
attended or not, he felt himself entitled to a place at the council.

The meeting took place on the beach in front of the cabin. Spurling and
Stevens had just come from the _Barracouta_, their oilskin "petticoats"
bearing gory evidence of their work for the last two hours.

"Fellows," proposed Jim, "to-morrow let's celebrate! We can't set the
trawls, for we haven't anything to bait up with. And even if we had, I
don't believe in working on the Fourth. When I was at Matinicus the
other day I saw a poster advertising a ball-game and big celebration at
Vinalhaven. We'll have an early breakfast and run up there in the
_Barracouta_. First, we'll go to Hardy's weir and take in a lot of
herring for bait. Then we can slip round to Carver's Harbor and spend
the rest of the day ashore. What d'you say?"

There was no doubt regarding the vote.

"The ayes have it!" shouted Spurling. "Now let's get everything in trim
for day after to-morrow! We won't pull the traps again until then."

Filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of a holiday, Budge, Throppy, and
Jim dispersed to their various tasks. Yawningly, Percy returned to
Brimstone Point and _The Three Musketeers_. After all, doing nothing on
an island twenty-five miles out at sea was pretty dull work.

The boys had an early supper and were soon asleep. Turning out at
daybreak, they despatched a hearty meal of corn-bread and bacon.
Everybody but Percy took hold with the dishes and helped tidy up the
camp. Shortly after sunrise they were sailing out of the cove in the
_Barracouta_.

The trip in past Saddleback Light to Vinalhaven was uneventful. By eight
o'clock they were lying alongside Hardy's weir, and its owner was
dipping bushel after bushel of shining herring into the pen aboard the
sloop. Before ten they were anchored off the steamboat wharf at Carver's
Harbor.

The town was in gala dress.