Part 40 (1/2)

”Man,” Tom Topsail declared, at last, ”I don't knohere I is!”

”Drive on, Tom,” said Archie

The punt went forward in a smother of water

”Half after eleven,” Archie remarked

Tom Topsail hauled the sheet taut to pick up another puff of wind An hour passed Archie had lost the accommodation if she were on time

”They's an island dead ahead,” said Tom ”I feels it Hark!” he added

”Does you hear the breakers?”

Archie could hear the wash of the sea

”Could it be Right-In-the-Way?” Tom Topsail wondered ”Or is it Mind-Your-Eye Point?”

There was no help in Archie

”If 'tis Right-In-the-Way,” said To, this,” he complained

Mind-Your-Eye is a point of the oin' ashore t' find out,” To of it Whether Right-In-the-Way, an island near by Burnt Bay, or Mind-Your-Eye, a long projection of thehid all outlines If it were Right-In-the-Way, Tom Topsail could land Archie in Burnt Bay within half an hour; if it were Mind-Your-Eye point--well, maybe

”Hark!” To

”Did you not hear it?” said Tom

”What, man? Hear _what_?”

”_That!_” Tom ejaculated

Archie heard the distant whistle of a train

”I knows this place,” Tom burst out, in vast excitement ”'Tis Mind-Your-Eye They's a cut road from here t' the railway 'Tis but half a ed into the bush They did not need to be told that the rade froe They did not need to be told that a little fire, builded by the track before she ran past, a flaring signal in the fog, would stop her With the to the track in time to start that fire

CHAPTER xxxVI

_And Last: In Which Archie Ars His Head in His Father's Office, the Pale Little Clerk Takes a Desperate Chance, Bill o' Burnt Bay Loses His Breath, and there is a Grand Dinner in Celebration of the Final Issue, at Which the A in the World Except Their Delight_

It was the first of September A rainy day, this, in St John's: the wind in the east, thick fog blowing in fro in its accustomed cheerful way Rain lashed the office s at intervals; a melancholy mist curtained the harbour from view Sir Archibald was anxious He druer-tips; he paced the office floor, he scowled, he pursed his lips, he dug his restless hands deep in his pockets The expected had not happened It was noo o'clock Sir Archibald was used to going home at three And it was noo o'clock--no, by Jove! it was eight after Sir Archibald walked i was the cause of his iht he); no schooner couldlike that And the winds of the week had been fair winds from the French Shore Still the expected had not happened _Why_ had the expected not happened?