rock that formed a
natural wharf. He sprang nimbly out, painter in hand, and while he
steadied the boat Charley followed.

Above the landing were three unpainted and dilapidated cabins. Smoke was
issuing from a stovepipe that protruded through the roof of the smallest
of these, and toward this Toby led the way.

"This is our fishin' place," Toby volunteered. "We fishes here in
summer, and lives in the house where you sees the smoke. The other
houses belongs to Mr. McClung from Newfoundland. The mail boat were
takin' he and three men that fishes with he, and their gear, and they
takes Dad's fish, too."

"You stay here, don't you? You'll stay here till the ship comes back for
me, won't you?" asked Charley pleadingly.

"We goes up the bay to-morrow marnin' to our tilt, our winter house at
Double Up Cove," said Toby, "but I'm thinkin' that if the ship's comin'
back she'll be back before night. Nobody stays out here in winter. 'Tis
wonderful cold here when the wind blows down over the hills and in from
the sea, with no trees to break un, and 'tis a poor place for huntin',
and no wood is handy for the fire."

"What'll I do when you go?" asked Charley in fresh dismay.

"You'll not be stoppin' here _what_ever," assured Toby. "Dad'll know
what to do. He'll get you out of _this_ fix! Don't you worry now."

Toby opened the door of the cabin, and the two boys entered. A tall,
broad-shouldered, bearded man stood by one of the two windows cleaning a
gun. A round-faced, plump little woman was at the stove, transferring
from a kettle to a large earthen bowl something that filled the room
with a most delicious odour, and a girl of twelve years or thereabouts
was placing dishes upon the table.

"Dad," said Toby addressing the man, "I brings with me Charley Norton
who was a passenger on the mail boat, and while he's ashore the mail
boat goes off and leaves he."

"That's a fix now! _That's_ a fix to be in! I calls that a mean trick
for the mail boat to be playin'!" He spoke in a big voice that quite
suited his size, but which startled Charley, and did not reassure him.
"What's to be done about un now? What be _you_ thinkin' to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to do," answered Charley timidly.

Toby's Dad put down the gun he was cleaning and wiped his hand on a
cloth.

"Leastways we'll make the best of un," he said, taking Charley's hand in
a bear-like clasp. "Besides bein' Toby's Dad, I'm Skipper Zebulon Twig
of Double