I had the launch to think of, and somehow or 'nother I got hold of her rodin' and hauled the anchor up above tide mark.

Then I attended to my passenger.
"'Where are we ?' he asks.
"I looked around.

Close by was nothin' but beach-grass and seaweed and sand.

A little ways off was a clump of scrub pines and bayberry bushes that looked sort of familiar.

And back of them was a little board shanty that looked more familiar still.