grandmother, and she is lame and deaf, so she can’t go with us. Don’t worry though; I’ll know what to do.”
It was queer about Sally, how calm she always was. Perhaps she had less imagination than other children and so was not apt to be aroused by the thought of dangerous possibilities. The thing directly before her was always the one thing that Sally saw, saw it clearly and fully and knew just what she was going to do about it.
By the time Billy had finished eating, she was not only in full possession of his story, but had put on her coat, had got ready a large bundle and a basket and had explained as much of the situation to her grandmother as spasmodic shouting could accomplish.
“Eh, eh,” said the old lady, “I understand,” although it was very doubtful if she did.
They set out together down the lane, Billy feeling much cheered now that he had some notion of what they were to do. Capable Sally’s experience evidently included just such a situation as this, for people had been ship-wrecked before off Appledore Island, and she had helped to care for them after-
