A Stolen Life

It's summer, a late afternoon. At a warth on Cape Cod, a young man in a small cabin cruiser is about to cast off for an island several miles offshore. I beg your pardon. I beg your pardon, but are you going to the island tonight?

I miss the steam up. Oh, I will teach you not to be late. Besides, you don't take passengers. This is a government boat. Oh, I'd be very indebted to you. My cousin's expecting me. I promise I won't be any trouble.

Can't you see? I'm full up with supplies. Well, I'm not very large. Well, please. Come on. Oh, thank you. Hey, just put your bags over there. Thank you. I've never been to the island before.

How long the trip is it? About two hours. I love to see. I come by it naturally, I guess. All my ancestors were Quelas from Portland. Main or Oregon? To a Yankee. There's only one Portland.

Main. Welcome to New England, Yankee. Thank you. What have you been doing? You should have been awful quiet. I've been making a sketch of you. Me? Well, hey, that's good. You going to the island of paint?

Yes. The island's a regular hangout for artists. They're always wanting to paint the lighthouse. Evan won't put them near the place. Evan? Evan Folger is the lighthouse keeper on Dragonhead. I'm, uh, watching my college temporary assistant.

Oh. Well, there's the island. Have your shore in 10 minutes. I hope your cousin's still there. Am I glad to see you. Oh, you certainly gave me a scare, Kate. Steamer came in and not a sign of yours.

Oh, I'm sorry. Freddy, I missed it by one minute. Well, it caused down here. Well, incidentally, who was that who brought you, Cross? His name's Bill. Huh? Patter I'd get? Yes. Freddy, where's Dragonhead? Dragonhead.