on the point was one in which there was really no wreck at all.

"It was a bright September afternoon ten years ago--one of those
silver-blue days when there is a little quivering haze in the air
everywhere, but no fog. We were sitting up here and looking out to
sea. Just beyond the end of Dunker Rock a large motor-boat came in
sight through the haze. She was about sixty feet long, with a low
cabin forward, a cockpit aft, and a raised place for the steersman
amidship--a good-looking craft, and evidently very speedy. She
carried no flag or pennant. She came driving on, full tilt, straight
toward us. We supposed of course she would turn east through the
narrow channel to Winterport, or sheer off to the west into the
Southern Way and go up the bay. But not a point did she swerve.
Steady on she came, toward the three big ledges that lie out there
beyond that bit of shingly beach at the end of the point.

"'I can't see any helmsman,' said Alice, 'those people must be
asleep or crazy. Give them a hail through the megaphone. Perhaps
you can make them hear.'

"So I yelled at the top of my lungs, and Alice waved her jersey.
We might as well have hailed a comet. That boat ran straight for
the ledges as if she meant to hurdle them. She came near doing it,
too. Over the first she scraped, as if her heel had hit it. Over
the second she shivered, hanging there for a second till a wave
lifted her. On the third she bumped hard and checked her way for
a moment, but the engine kept going, and finally she got herself
over somehow and ran head on to the beach.

"Of course we were excited, and everybody hurried down to see what