Sunset Lake was twenty miles from Aunt Polly's farm, and the
Blossoms arrived there before noon. There was no trouble in
finding Chris Smith's boathouse, for Greenpier was a very small,
shabby town and the large sign "Boats for Hire" was easily the
most conspicuous thing in the place.

"Howdy!" Mr. Harley greeted them, shuffling over the road from the
wharf as Father Blossom honked the horn and brought the car to a
stop. "I'm just back from a trip to the island. Did you see your
sister, Ma'am?"

Mother Blossom told Mr. Harley all that Aunt Polly knew of Mrs.
Harley and all that she had said. He merely nodded his head. Meg
noticed that while he had been neatly dressed when they overtook
him on the road he now wore no tie and in place of a collar a
rather grimy red handkerchief was knotted around his throat.

"I told you there wouldn't be a bridge," whispered Twaddles to
Dot. "Mother, all the way here Dot was arguing we went to the
island on a bridge. We don't, do we?"

"I'm afraid you're so hungry you can't argue very pleasantly,"
returned Mother Blossom. "However, I want you to wait till we get
to the bungalow and I'll have a nice, hot lunch for you, Daddy,
what about leaving the car?"

"There's a garage down the street a piece," volunteered Mr.
Harley. "Guess the car will be all right there; and the motor-
boat's due any minute."