The boys and girls did not feel like going swimming that morning, but they went down to the beach and were idly picking up shells when the put-put of a motor boat sounded close inshore.
"That's Larry," Fred said. "I wonder where he is going? He chases up and down the coast exactly like a delivery wagon."
"It must be fun to sail in that old boat," said Jess idly.
Just then Larry hailed them gayly. He was a middle-aged man, known to half the town and all the fishermen. No one had ever seen Larry ill-tempered or in a hurry.
"Want a little trip?" Larry called cheerily. "I'm going up to Glen Haven and back—won't take long."
"Let's go!" urged Margy. "Mother won't care."
"Run down to the wharf and I'll take you on," Larry yelled good-naturedly.
They scampered for the old wharf some yards farther down the beach, and when the shabby motor boat came alongside, dropped one by one into the tiny hold.
"Too nice a day to stay on land," said Larry, whose weather-beaten face was wrinkled with smiles. "I have to take a picnic party out this afternoon, and I'm running up the coast for some special supplies."