Mr. Aikens, and that Jerry was not to worry any more about Lost
Island.

"But I've simply got to go back, ma," sputtered Jerry, his mouth
uncomfortably full of pancake. "Mr. Fulton isn't going to--well, he
didn't show much interest in my theories---"

"But Mr. Aikens seemed to think he did. You just rest easy, son. If
two grown men can't take care of your Lost Islander--and your
theories, too, why, well--you just get ready to pile into bed,
that's all."

"But, ma--there's the boat."

"It'll take care of itself till you get there."

"But, ma----"

"Hush up, now. Into bed with you."

"But can I go after the boat when I----"

Mrs. Ring caught up a flat piece of wood from the back of the
kitchen range, and laughingly but firmly put an end to the coaxing,
Jerry retreating hastily to the shelter of his bedroom.

Both Jerry and his father stood in awe of tiny Mrs. Ring, who barely
reached to overgrown Jerry's shoulder.

"Wake me up at twelve, will you, ma?" called Jerry, in his most