There was no doubt at all that a thorough search would be made of the bay and the island, and so Mr.Foster wisely remained at home to comfort his wife and daughter.
"That sort of boy," mourned Annie, "is always getting into some kind of mischief." "Annie!" exclaimed her mother indignantly, "Ford is a good boy, and he does not run into mischief." "I didn't mean Ford: I meant that Dabney Kinzer.

I wish we'd never seen him, or his sailboat either." "Annie," remarked her father a little reprovingly, "if we live by the water, Ford _will_ go out on it, and he had better do so in good company.

Wait a while." Annie was silenced, but it was only too clear that she was not entirely convinced.

Her brother's absence and all their anxiety were positively due to Dab Kinzer, and his wicked, dangerous little yacht; and he must be to blame somehow.
She could not help "waiting a while," as her father bade her; but her eyes already told that she had been doing more than wait.
Summer days are long; but some of them are a good deal longer than others, and that was one of the longest any of those people had ever known.
For once, even dinner was more than half neglected in the Kinzer family circle.

At the Fosters' it was forgotten almost altogether.