“Oh, what we did was nothing much, and anybody else would have done the same thing,” disclaimed Bob. “But tell us about that rascal, Dan Cassey. Have you seen or heard anything about him?”
“Only once,” replied Miss Berwick. “He came back to this vicinity to wind up his affairs and get out. I met him one day on the road when no one else was about. I was going to pass him without speaking, for I dread the man almost as much as I despise him, but he planted himself in my way and went on dreadfully about you boys. Said he was going to fix you for butting into his affairs—those were the words he used. Some one came in sight just then and he passed on. But what he said has worried me. I do hope you boys will keep on your guard against him. I’d feel dreadful if anything happened to you for being so good to me.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Bob adjured her. “We’re able to take care of ourselves.”
“Did he stutter as much as usual?” asked Joe, with a grin.
“Worse, if anything,” Miss Berwick answered. “He had to whistle to go on.”
They all laughed, and after a moment more of conversation and repeated warnings from the girl to be careful, the boys said good-bye and went to the car. She waved to them until the car was out of sight.
The doctor put on a little extra speed to make up for the delay, and the car purred along the road until finally Ocean Point came in sight. A cry of delight broke from the boys as they saw the ocean stretched out before them, that shimmering, sunlit ocean that seemed so friendly now, but whose menace and danger they were soon to feel.
[CHAPTER XI—A LONG SWIM]
“Ocean Point strikes me as being just all right,” said Bob, as he stretched out luxuriously in one of the comfortable chairs on the shady porch.
“Right you are,” agreed Joe, heartily. “We ought to acquire a coat of sunburn here that will last over the winter and into next spring.”