Read The Return of the Dragon for Free Online Page B

said, at the same time.
    Zachary hastily made a spluttering noise in his cocoa.
    Mr. King appeared not to notice. He leaned forward and set down his teacup.
    “There’s an amazing population of wildlife on this island,” he said. “Simply amazing. Why, just a few days ago I saw the most incredible sight. . . . Just take a guess. . . .”
    Sarah Emily gave a tiny gasp.
    Mr. King turned toward her inquiringly.
    Hastily she shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said.
    “Puffins!” Mr. King cried. “A flock of puffins! I wouldn’t be surprised if they were nesting on the island.”
    “I’ve never seen any,” Zachary said.
    “Ah, well,” Mr. King said.
    He patted his lips with a napkin, folded it, and laid it carefully on his plate. “Simply delicious,” he said. Then he got to his feet.
    “I do hope we shall meet again soon,” he said, giving the children another friendly smile. “I plan to write to your aunt to inform her of my presence here and will keep my yacht at anchor until I have a reply. Perhaps you three would like to come onboard for a visit?”
    “On your
yacht
?” Hannah said excitedly.
    Mr. King pulled a small leather notebook and a gold pencil from his pocket, scribbled something on a sheet of paper, tore it out, and handed it to Hannah.
    “My personal telephone number,” he said. “If you have time to arrange a visit, I can be reached here.”
    “It’s been very nice meeting you,” Hannah said.
    Mr. King paused on the front porch, turning his head north and south, gazing the length of the island. He took a deep breath.
    “Sea air,” he said. “Open spaces. One gets the feeling that almost anything could happen here. Almost a magical place.”
    He gave a friendly nod, turned, and went down the porch steps. Beside the dock in the little cove, the children could see a small white motorboat floating.
    “So that’s how he gets to and from his yacht,” Zachary muttered to Sarah Emily.
    Mr. King lifted a hand in farewell. Then he walked quickly across the beach, stepped onto the dock, climbed into his motorboat, and sped away.
    Zachary shut the front door and leaned against it.
    “Whew,” he said.
    “I thought he was sort of nice,” Hannah said. “I think you’re just imagining things. He’s really
famous,
Zachary.”
    “I wish he’d just go away,” said Sarah Emily. “Him and his puffins.”
    “Well, he’s not leaving,” said Hannah. “You heard him. He’s keeping his boat anchored here until he hears from Aunt Mehitabel. And I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Weigh the evidence, like Fafnyr said.”
    “I think we should warn Fafnyr,” Sarah Emily said.
    “F,”
Zachary said.

Sarah Emily was having a wonderful dream. She was flying, swooping and soaring high above the ocean in glorious loops and dips and glides. The air smelled clean and salty — she could smell it even in her dream — and there was a distant squawky sound of seagulls. Far below her the sea was a beautiful shade of cobalt blue, dotted with lacy froths of white where the waves were whipped by wind. She was over the island, she realized suddenly. There it was, Lonely Island, a crescent-shaped sliver of gray and green, surrounded by glittering sea. The sun glinted off the weathervane on the rooftop of Aunt Mehitabel’s house, and then there was an answering glint from somewhere else, to the north, beyond the craggy tumble of rock that formed the hill. She flew toward it, curious. It came again, a silvery flash, as if someone were signaling with a mirror. She dived, dipping a powerful wing, and the sun blazed off her scales, blindingly golden . . .
    She sat up, her heart beating fast. The sun was shining in her eyes and someone was pounding on her bedroom door.
    “S.E.! Are you up?” It was Hannah’s voice. “Zachary says he’s found something. In the Tower Room.”
    The children thought that the Tower Room was the most wonderful room in Aunt Mehitabel’s house. Its door was