"Forgotten how to milk, Meg?" asked Peter Apgar, coming into the dairy barn from feeding the horses. "Want to try it this morning?"

"I don't think I've forgotten how," said Meg cautiously, "but I'd rather Jud milked, 'cause he can do it so much faster than I can; and then he can go round with us and see the things."

That little speech pleased Jud mightily and pleased Peter Apgar, too, because, you will remember, Peter was Jud's father.

"You go sight-seeing this minute, Jud," he ordered his tall son.

"Guess I can do the milking on a special morning like this."

So the four little Blossoms and Jud went to pay their respects to all the dear farm animals the children had known that first summer they spent on Brookside Farm. Carlotta, the calf given to Meg and Bobby, had grown to be a beautiful sleek cow and Meg privately decided she was prettier than any Aunt Polly owned. Jerry and Terry, the two farm horses, acted as though they remembered the small visitors; and as for Mrs. Sally Sweet, Aunt Polly's pet Jersey cow, she came right up to the bars and fairly begged to have her nose stroked.

"Mother will want to see you," said Jud, when they had made the rounds of the barns and poultry yards.

Jud was "as nice as ever," Meg said, and the winter he had spent at an agricultural college had given him more confidence in his own ability. He was as determined as ever, the children found, to be a farmer and a good one.

At Mrs. Peter's neat front door they found Mr. Tom Sparks, a man who sold and bought cattle and who had given Carlotta to Meg and Bobby. He was surprised and delighted to see the four children again and said it was just his usual good luck that had made him drive in that morning; he was going off the next morning on a two weeks' trip to buy cows.

"I'd almost like to live here," confided Dot to Twaddles as they went in to breakfast.

CHAPTER IX

ON THE WAY AGAIN

Early the next morning Father Blossom brought the car around and, amid much hugging and kissing and a few tears, the good-bys were said. The Blossoms promised that if Aunt Polly and Linda and Jud did not get to see them while they were on Apple Tree Island, they would surely stop at Brookside Farm on their way home.

"I wonder how Mr. Harley feels now?" said Meg suddenly, when, the farm far behind, they were riding swiftly toward Sunset Lake. "I haven't thought about him all the time we were playing; have you, Dot?"

"No, I haven't," admitted Dot. "But I'm sorry for him, just the same. Do you suppose he has found Mrs. Harley?"

"I'm afraid not," answered Father Blossom.

"We will see him to-day, though, and give him what little news Aunt Polly could tell us of his wife. I am going to Greenpier, the little town where Chris Smith has his boats. I rather think Mr.

Harley will bunk right there with him. Chris is a bachelor and will probably be glad to have some one live with him."

Sunset Lake was twenty miles from Aunt Polly's farm, and the Blossoms arrived there before noon. There was no trouble in finding Chris Smith's boathouse, for Greenpier was a very small, shabby town and the large sign "Boats for Hire" was easily the most conspicuous thing in the place.

"Howdy!" Mr. Harley greeted them, shuffling over the road from the wharf as Father Blossom honked the horn and brought the car to a stop. "I'm just back from a trip to the island. Did you see your sister, Ma'am?"

Mother Blossom told Mr. Harley all that Aunt Polly knew of Mrs.

Harley and all that she had said. He merely nodded his head. Meg noticed that while he had been neatly dressed when they overtook him on the road he now wore no tie and in place of a collar a rather grimy red handkerchief was knotted around his throat.

"I told you there wouldn't be a bridge," whispered Twaddles to Dot. "Mother, all the way here Dot was arguing we went to the island on a bridge. We don't, do we?"

"I'm afraid you're so hungry you can't argue very pleasantly,"

returned Mother Blossom. "However, I want you to wait till we get to the bungalow and I'll have a nice, hot lunch for you, Daddy, what about leaving the car?"

"There's a garage down the street a piece," volunteered Mr.

Harley. "Guess the car will be all right there; and the motor- boat's due any minute."

"Told you there wasn't any bridge!" snickered Twaddles in triumph.

"Stop teasing your sister," ordered Father Blossom. "Stay with Mother, children, till I run the car into the shop. Who runs the boat, d.i.c.k?"

"Man named Jenks," answered Mr. Harley. "It makes two trips a day during the season; goes to all the islands and carries the mail and fresh vegetables. Jenks will do errands in town for you, too, if you want anything. Very obliging. Never gets mad."

Mr. Harley spoke in short, jerky sentences that fascinated the listening children, Bobby especially.

"How many islands are there?" Meg wanted to know.

"'Bout eleven," said Mr. Harley. "Some little, some big. Apple Tree Island? Oh, that's medium, I guess."

Father Blossom came back from putting up the car and took charge of the suitcases. Each of the four little Blossoms carried his own coat. Presently they heard the chug-chug-chug of a motor-boat.

"All aboard!" called a bluff, hearty voice, and a green and white boat shot up beside the wharf on which the Blossoms stood.

"These pa.s.sengers are for Apple Tree Island," said Mr. Harley.

"Know whether their baggage's come yet?"

"Poled three trunks and six small boxes over on the raft yesterday afternoon," announced the motor-boat captain, who was also the crew. "Billed for the Winthrop bungalow--that right?"

"Right!" Father Blossom cheerfully a.s.sured him. "Now if you have room for us all, Captain--"

"Jenks, very much at your service," said the captain, with a flourish. "I suppose you'd like to go right over?"

"We should, if you can take us," said Mother Blossom. "The children are hungry and it must be after noon."

Captain Jenks a.s.sured her that he could take them to Apple Tree Island without stopping at any other port, and as soon as they were comfortably on board he started his engine.

"Chug-chug-chug!" coughed the little motorboat.

It wasn't so little, of course, when it could carry seven pa.s.sengers. Indeed it had a neat little forward deck and a tiny cabin upholstered in red leather that would be very cozy in bad weather. Captain Jenks thought his boat was a beauty. Bobby thought so, too.

"Like boats?" the captain asked him, finding the little boy at his elbow.

"I don't know much about them," admitted Bobby. "Shall we have a boat like this? Daddy left the car in the garage."

"A car's no good on the water," said the captain loftily. "What you want is a seaworthy, tight little craft. You're going to live in the Winthrop bungalow, aren't you? Well, then, you'll have two rowboats."

"Then Dot and I can have one," Twaddles remarked with satisfaction.

Captain Jenks looked at him in some amazement.

"Wait till you try to lift an oar," was his comment. "Hey, little girl, you'll get grease on your dress."

"She has already," said Meg calmly. "She always does. Are you named for the Captain Jenks in the rime?"