"
I drove around the harbor that day with a lighter heart than I
had hoped ever to possess again. When I reached Spruce Cove the
first person I met was old Abel Blair. I asked him if any child
were missing from the Cove or along shore. He looked at me in
surprise, shook his head, and said he had not heard of any. I
told him as much of the tale as was necessary, leaving him to
think that my wife and I had found the dory and its small
passenger during an ordinary walk along the shore.
"A green dory!" he exclaimed. "Ben Forbes' old green dory has
been missing for a week, but it was so rotten and leaky he didn't
bother looking for it. But this child, sir--it beats me. What
might he be like?"
I described the child as closely as possible.
"That fits little Harry Martin to a hair," said old Abel,
perplexedly, "but, sir, it can't be. Or, if it is, there's been
foul work somewhere. James Martin's wife died last winter, sir,
and he died the next month. They left a baby and not much else.
There weren't nobody to take the child but Jim's half-sister,
Maggie Fleming. She lived here at the Cove, and, I'm sorry to
say, sir, she hadn't too good a name. She didn't want to be
bothered with the baby, and folks say she neglected him
scandalous. Well, last spring she begun talking of going away to
the States. She said a friend of hers had got her a good place
in Boston, and she was going to go and take little Harry.
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