"I shall go to-morrow. I've been a fool to wait so long."

Uncle William's eye twinkled. "You've been gettin' well," he said.

"I'm well now."

"Yes, you're--Hello, there's Andy." He leaned over the edge of the
cliff. "What d'ye make her?" he called down.

Andy squinted at the distance. "Coaster," he announced.

"Come up here and take a look at her."

Andy climbed slowly up the cliff. "Got your glass?" He took it and fixed
the moving speck. "'T ain't a coaster," he muttered. "What you folks
been doin' all the mornin'?"

"Well, I've been for the mail and some things, and Mr. Woodworth here
he's been paintin'."

Andy cast a side glance at the easel. Then he gazed fixedly at the bay.
He seated himself on a rock. "It's time for me to go home," he said.

No one paid any attention to it--Andy least of all. He sat with one leg
swinging over the other, chewing a bit of grass and staring gloomily out
to sea. The look of baffled humility in his face made it almost tragic.
The artist fell to sketching it under cover of his hand. Uncle William
studied the approaching boat. "She's never been in these waters afore,"
he announced. "She's comin' in keerful." No one replied. Andy stared
at fate and the artist worked fast. Uncle William reached out for the