voice could be heard in a lengthy conversation. Jerry impatiently
awaited his return, anxious to tell the rest of his story. Imagine
then his surprise when Tod's father delayed his return unreasonably,
and his only response to Jerry's eager sentences was, "Yes, yes, I
know."

Jerry's heart sank unaccountably--he sensed the fact that Mr. Fulton
was not listening, was only waiting, in fact, till the boy should
finish and he could decently get rid of Jerry. The story was
consequently hurried through. Disappointed beyond description, Jerry
left the house, not even noticing that Mr. Fulton had left the room
even before Jerry had reached the door.

Something was wrong somewhere; Jerry had expected that his story
would be literally snatched out of his mouth; instead it had been
smothered under the dampest kind of wet blanket. Feeling not a
little sore over his failure to impress the two men with the
importance of his discoveries, Jerry plodded along home, determined
that as soon as he had gulped down a little breakfast he would hike
back to Lost Island alone and make one more attempt to gain the
cover of its wooded banks.

Even that plan was doomed to disappointment. Jerry's mother had
saved a goodly breakfast for him, and bustled about making him
comfortable. Contrary to Jerry's expectations, she had no word of
blame for his having remained away overnight without asking consent,
and even listened with sympathetic ear to the story of his
adventures. But just at the moment when Jerry was about to announce
his intention to return, Mrs. Ring was called to the back door, to
return a few minutes later with the announcement that it had been