the white tower on
the hummock of Owl's Head, marking the entrance of rocky Muscle Ridge
Channel, they were soon plowing across the blue floor of West Penobscot
Bay. Due north, Rockport Harbor opened between wooded shores, while
beyond it rose the Camden Hills, monarchs of the rolling line of
mountains stretching up toward Belfast.

A five-mile sail, and they were threading their way through narrow,
winding Fox Island Thoroughfare, to the wharf at North Haven. Thence
across East Penobscot Bay, by Deer Island Thoroughfare, to the granite
wharf at Stonington, the rockiest town in the United States. Here they
disembarked, and a short walk up a side-street brought them to the house
of Spurling's uncle, Mr. Thomas Sprowl.

Uncle Tom was at home, confined by his rheumatism and the doctor's
orders. He greeted the boys gladly.

"Got your letter last night, Jim," said he, "and I can tell you it took
a weight off my mind. Since I've been sick I've nigh fretted myself to
death about Tarpaulin."

He groaned, and shifted himself painfully in his chair.

"Those twinges take me unexpected," he explained. "You see," returning
to his subject, "all my gear's on the island, besides those fifty sheep.
Quite a risk for a man with so little as I've got. You don't know how
pleased I am that you fellows are going to be on deck there this summer.
You're a good, husky lot--at least most of ye." He scanned Percy a
trifle dubiously. "You'll have a fine time the next three months, and
you'll make some money. Wish I could go down with ye!"

He winced and stifled another groan.

"When do you plan to start?"

"Just as soon as we can arrange for our boats and stores," replied Jim.

"Good enough! You can be there to-night, slick as a whistle. Remember
the _Barracouta_, that old power-sloop we've taken so many trips in?
I've had her overhauled this spring and a new seven-and-a-half-horse
engine put in her; her jibs and mainsail are in first-class shape.
You'll find her at my mooring near the steamboat wharf. My Bucksport
dory has just been pulled up on the ledges and painted. You'll need
another boat besides, so I've arranged with Sammy Stinson to let you
have his pea-pod. She'll do to lobster in. Now as to gear. You'll find
over a hundred lobster-traps piled up on the sea-wall near my cabin, and
there's six tubs of trawl in the fish-shed. Keep an account of whatever
stuff you have to buy for repairs, and we can settle at the end of the
season