To judge by the looks of Bailey's Harbor it might have been
midnight. There was not a soul on the street, and only one or two
houses had a light.

"Oh, well, they go to bed early here."

"Don't want to worry the Captain. He expected us back before
supper."

"We'll relieve his mind now, all right."

"Gee!" said Jimmy, as we tramped down the hill, "but I'll be glad
to get aboard the 'Hoppergrass.' There's nothing in the world so
cosy as the cabin of a boat, on a night like this."

The same idea struck all of us, and we hurried down the wharf. The
fog had lifted a little, and blew by us in wisps and fragments.

"For one thing," remarked Ed Mason, "I'd like to get into some dry
clothes. I'm beginning to be soaked."

"Oh, we'll be all right again," I said, "when we're aboard. The
Captain--"

I stopped suddenly. We all halted on the end of the wharf, and
stared across the inlet. We looked at the spot where our boat had
anchored, and then we looked up and down the inlet. The
"Hoppergrass" was gone!