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244 have been her ghost I saw that day up by Trasket."

"Like enough," Bobstay agreed.

"Your sheet's awfully flat, Jo—Ben," the Captain commented.

Joan looked rather abashed and eased the sheet a little.

"You're right, sir," she said; "the water's a bit rougher nor it were." And she attended to the handling of the boat in silence.

The waves were fresh and choppy, running in a rough tumble of indigo along the sides of the Ailouros and smacking her bows with a splash of twinkling spray.

"It's scrumptious!" said Garth, who had taken both hands to the tiller. "I love it when it's like this."

"Let's go on toward Hy Brasail," Joan suggested, "and run back before the wind. It's still very early, and it's not proper to dig treasure before midnight, anyway. We'll have to do it before then, I fear, but we've time for a longer sail."

"Hurrah!" cried Garth. "Let's!"