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beside him, sniffing him with pleasure. He put his arm round the dog, and began to talk, his bright eyes going from one to other of the children. He was so friendly, and so completely natural that the children felt he was an old, old friend. They sat down too, sniffing the smel of the gorse bushes nearby. „They smell like coconut," thought Anne. „Yes
    - just like coconut!"
    „Well, now," said Lucas, „that island"s always been a mystery-place. It"s called Wailing Island by some folks because the wind makes a right queer wailing noise round some of its high cliffs. And others call it Whispering Island because it"s full of trees that whisper in the strong winds that always blow across it. But most of us cal it Keep-Away Island - and that"s the best name of all, for there"s never been any welcome there, what with the dark cliffs, the cruel rocks, and the dense woods."
    Lucas paused, and looked at the listening faces around him. He was a born story-teller, and knew it. How often Wilfrid had listened to his tales of the birds and animals he met during his work on the course! Lucas was one of the few people that the boy admired and loved.
    „Do go on, Lucas!" said Wilfrid, touching the man"s bare, warm arm. „Tell us about the rich old man who hated everyone, and bought the island years ago."
    „I"m tel ing the story my own way," said Lucas, with great dignity. „You sit patient now, or I"l start my ditching again. Sit like this dog, see - he don"t even twitch a muscle, good dog that he is. Well now, about this rich old man. He was so afraid of being robbed that he bought that lonely island. He built himself a great castle right in the middle of the thick woods. Cut down about a hundred trees, to make room for it, so the story goes, and brought every single stick and stone from the mainland. Did you see the old quarry on this here golf-course, as you came along to me?"
    „Yes, we did," said Julian, remembering. „I felt sorry for anyone who sent a golf-bal there!"
    „Well, young sir, out of that quarry came the great stones that the old man used for his castle," said Lucas. „"Tis said that big, Hat-bottomed boats had to be made to ferry the stones across to the island - and to this day the road through this golf-course is the one made by horses dragging the great stones down to the water"s-edge."
    „Were you alive then?" said Wilfrid.
    „Bless you, boy, no, of course not," said Lucas, with a great chuckle of a laugh. „Long afore my time, that was. Well, the stone house - or castle - whatever you like to call it - was built. And the old man brought to it all kinds of treasures - beautiful statues, some of gold, it was said, but that I disbelieve. Ah, many"s the queer tale I"ve heard of what that rich old man took over to Whispering Island - a great bed made of pure gold, and set with precious stones - a necklace of rubies as big as pigeons" eggs - a wonderful sword with a jewel ed handle worth a king"s fortune - and other things I disremember."
    He paused and looked round. Julian asked him a quick question. „What happened to all these things?"
    „Well now, he fel foul of the king of the land, and one morning what did he see landing on the shores of his island but ships of al kinds," said Lucas, enjoying the rapt attention of his audience. „A lot of them were sunk by the wicked rocks but enough men were left to storm the queer stone castle in the wood, and they kil ed the old man and all his servants."
    „Did they find the treasures the old fel ow had collected?" asked Dick.
    „Never a one!" said Lucas. „Never a one. Some say it was al a tale - the old man never did bring any wonders there - and some say they"re stil there, on Whispering Island. Meself, I think it"s al a yarn - but a good yarn at that!"
    „Who owns the island now?" asked Dick.
    „Well, an old fel ow and his wife went to live there-maybe they paid rent to the Crown for it, maybe they bought it - but they didn"t care for anything except for