“We are going to have some fun here,” promised Tom Cameron to Ruth, after their party had got established with its baggage. “See that hard strip of beach? That’s no clamflat. I am going to race my car on that sand. Palm Beach has nothing on this. Jackman, the property man (you remember Jacks, don’t you, Ruth?), says the blackfish and bass are biting off the Point. You girls can act in movies if you like, but I am going fishing.”
“Don’t talk movies to me,” sighed the girl. “I almost wish we had not come, Tom.”
“Nonsense! You shall go fishing with me. Put on your oldest duds and—well, maybe you will have to strip off your shoes and stockings. It is both wet and slippery on the rocks.”
“Pooh! I’ll put on my bathing suit and a sweater. I never was afraid of water yet,” Ruth declared.
This was the morning after their arrival. Tom had been up to the port and brought down Aunt Kate for the day. Aunt Kate sat under an umbrella near where the company was working on location, and she scribbled all day in a notebook. Jennie whispered that she, too, was bitten by the scenario bug!
“I feel it coming over me,” announced Helen. “I’ve got what I think is a dandy idea.”
“Oh, there’s too much to do,” Jennie Stone said. “I couldn’t find time to dabble in literature.”
“My, oh, my!” gasped Helen, with scorn. “How busy we are! You and Henri spend all your time making eyes at each other.”
“But just think, Nell!” cried the plump girl. “He’s got to go back to France and fight——”
“And so has my Tom.”