“He was going to steal it.”

“Can’t go for him now, Dab; but you’ll have to mount guard here while we go back with the things.”

He did so, and Ham and Frank and Ford hurried back to the other beach to find that Mrs. Kinzer had taken complete possession of that baby.  Every rag of his damp things was already stripped off, and now, while Miranda lighted the “heater” and made some milk hot in a minute, the good lady began to rub the little sufferer as only a mother knows how.

Then there was a warm wrapping up in cloths and shawls, and better success than anybody had dreamed of in making the seemingly half-dead child eat something.

“That was about all the matter,” said Mrs. Kinzer.  “Now if we can get him and his mother over to the house, we can save both of them.  Ford, how long did you say it was since they’d eaten anything?”

“About three days, they say.”

“Mercy on me!  And that cabin of ours holds so little!  Glad it’s full, anyhow.  Let’s get it out and over here at once.”

“The cabin?”

“No, the provisions.”

And not a soul among them all thought of their own lunch, any more than Mrs. Kinzer herself did; but Joe and Fuz were not just then among them.  On the contrary, they were over there by the shore, where the “Jenny” had been pulled up, trying to get Dab Kinzer to put them on board the “Swallow.”

“Somebody ought to be on board of her,” said Fuz, in as anxious a tone as he could, “with so many strange people around.”

[Illustration:  “WHOM DO YOU THINK I’VE SEEN TO-DAY?”]

“It isn’t safe,” added Joe.

“Fact,” replied Dab; “but then I kind o’ like to feel a little unsafe.”

And the Hart boys felt, somehow, that Dab knew why they were so anxious to go on board, and they were right enough, for he was saying to himself at that moment,

“They can wait.  They do look hungry, but they’ll live through it.  There aint any cuffs or collars in Ham’s locker.”

All there was then in the locker, however, was soon out of it when Mrs. Kinzer and the rest came, for they brought with them the officers of the wrecked bark, and neither Joe nor Fuz had a chance to so much as “help distribute” that supply of provisions.  Ham went over to make sure it should be properly done, while Mrs. Kinzer saw her little patient with his father and mother safely stowed on board the “Swallow.”

“I’ll save that baby, anyhow,” she said to Miranda, “and Ford says his father’s a farmer.  We can find plenty for ’em to do.  They’ll never see a thing of their baggage, and I guess they hadn’t a great deal.”

She was just the woman to guess correctly, but at that moment Dab Kinzer said to Annie Foster in a low tone: 

“Whom do you think I’ve seen to-day?”

“I can’t guess.  Who was it?”

“The tramp!”

“The same one—­”

“The very same.  There he goes, over the sand-hill yonder, with old
Peter, the wrecker.  We’ve got to hurry home now, but I’m going to set
Ham Morris on his track.”