the fog horn in one hand, and in the other he held a battered old cap which supplied the place of the old straw hat lost at Quaco.  After letting off a series of blasts from the horn, he brandished his cap wildly in the air, and then proceeded to dance a sort of complex double-shuffle, diversified by wild leaps in the air, and accompanied by brandishings of his hat and fresh blasts of the horn.  But if Solomon’s appearance was somewhat bewildering, still more so was that of the other one.  This one stood astern.  Suddenly as they looked they saw him hoist a flag, and, wonder of wonders, a black flag,—­no other, in short, than the well-known flag of the “B.  O. W. C.”  That flag had been mournfully lowered and put away on Tom’s disappearance, but now it was hoisted once more; and as they looked, the new comer hoisted it and lowered it, causing it to rise and fall rapidly before their eyes.

Nor did the wonder end here.  They had taken away the only boat that the schooner possessed in order to come ashore, leaving Solomon alone.  They had noticed no boat whatever as they rowed to land.  But now they saw a boat floating astern of the Antelope, with a small and peculiarly shaped sail, that now was flapping in the breeze.  Evidently this boat belonged to the new comer.  But who was he?  How had he come there?  What was the meaning of those signals with that peculiar flag, and what could be the reason of Solomon’s joy?

They stood dumb with astonishment, confused, and almost afraid to think of the one cause that each one felt to be the real explanation of all this.  Too long had they searched in vain for Tom,—­too often had they sunk from hope to despair,—­too confident and sanguine had they been; and now, at this unexpected sight, in spite of the assurance which it must have given them that this could be no other than Tom, they scarce dared to believe in such great happiness, and were afraid that even this might end in a disappointment like the others.

But, though they stood motionless and mute, the two figures on board the Antelope were neither one nor the other.  Solomon danced more and more madly, and brandished his arms more and more excitedly, and there came forth from his fog horn wilder and still wilder peals, and the flag rose and fell more and more quickly, until at last the spectators on the shore could resist no longer.

“G-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d ger-ra-a-a-cious!”

This cry burst from Captain Corbet.

It was enough.  The spell was broken.  A wild cry burst forth from the boys, and with loud, long shouts of joy they rushed down the bank, and over the beach, back to their boat.  The captain was as quick as any of them.  In his enthusiasm he forgot his rheumatism.  There was a race, and though he was not even with Bruce and Bart, he kept ahead of Pat, and Arthur, and Phil, and old Wade.

Hurrah!

And hurrah again!

Yes, and hurrah over and over; and many were the hurrahs that burst from them as they raced over the rocky beach.