Saturday morning, Barbara and Regina ate a quick breakfast before hurrying down the overgrown path through the woodland back of the house. A few minutes later, the Albatross churned into view.

As the girls waved from the shore, the houseboat's engines slowed for the tricky approach to the boulder-strewn inlet. Their waves turned to cheers when at last the barrier was crossed and the anchor dropped with a splash that sent water geysering high into the air.

The boys, dungaree-clad and barefoot, swaggered down the gangplank.

"Shouldn't someone tell the Matson Line about these nautical geniuses?" Regina teased.

"Do you think they'd become commodores right away? Or would they have to settle for mere captaincies?" Barbara pretended to wonder.

Taking the razzing with good humor, the boys bent to the task of making the Albatross fast to shore.

"Did you get all your final papers without any trouble?" Barbara asked.

Whit nodded, but an angry look flickered briefly over his face. "There was nothing you'd call trouble, exactly," he said. "Just that Smith character hanging around again. He offered Mr. Dodson a whopping bribe to cancel our agreement. The old man threatened to call the police if he showed up at the dockyard again."

"Do you suppose there might be a reason why the Albatross is so popular?" Barbara asked carefully, apprehensive that she might be taunted about her wild imagination.