If the afternoon was still hot when they reached home, no one knew it.  The whole island had to be shown to Jud, and he had to see the Harley shack and hear of the discovery of the silver mugs and the letters.  It was supper time before the children realized it and then, in a little while, it was dark.

“Dark enough for fireworks?” said Twaddles for the twentieth time, and he bounced with delight when Father Blossom said: 

“Dark enough to begin, I think.”

Mother Blossom and the children and Captain Jenks sat on the steps of the bungalow while Father Blossom and Jud set off the fireworks.  Each child was allowed to apply the punk to one piece, but they soon found it was better fun to sit quietly and watch.

“There goes a flower-pot!” cried Meg, as a brilliant shower of red and yellow sparks bloomed out against the velvet blackness of the Summer night.

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven—­seven stars,” counted Bobby as Jud set off a Roman candle.

“Now a rocket!” said Mother Blossom, and Captain Jenks gave a hurrah as the beautiful shooting star thing hissed and fell far out into Sunset Lake.

Father Blossom and Jud were kept busy setting off the many pieces, for Jud had brought more in his bag, and when they lit the last red light it was discovered that Dot was fast asleep sitting upright against a porch post.

It was a tired and sleepy family that, Jud carrying Dot, marched to bed when the red light had burned itself out.  But they were immensely happy.  So was Captain Jenks, whistling on his way to his boat—­nothing would induce him to stay all night.  So was the Harley family far out in Oklahoma.  And they were all happy for the same reason.

THE END