smuggler. We found the ashes of his campfire and this." He held up
a pair of bird wings.

"The poor little bird!" exclaimed Meg compassionately. "How can
any one shoot a bird!"

"It's all right sometimes, isn't it?" Bobby insisted. "Jud goes
gunning, Meg, you know he does."

"I've nothing to say against it when the season is open," said the
captain.

Captain Jenks seemed saddened by the discovery of the pretty,
spotted wings, but when he had put them away in a little box in
the cabin he cheered up and admired the daisies.

"You'll find string in that toolchest," he directed them. "Going
to make two bunches? That's right--I don't like to see flowers
crowded even after they're picked."

The two bunches were tied to the rail as a safe place and one in
which they would not be easily crushed. The motor-boat--by the
way, its name was The Sarah, painted in green letters; you haven't
been told that before, have you?--was now chugging down the lake
toward Greenpier, and Bobby and Meg were taking their first lesson
in managing the wheel. Twaddles had found a compass in the
toolchest and was having a wonderful time playing with that. Dot
thought the time had come to put an idea of hers into practice.

"They look wilted," she told herself, eyeing the daisies with