“Then we’re on the same errand,” replied Bud. “I started to go to Florida but was delayed, so when the word came that the boys were missing, I just turned around and came on up here to help find them. I’ve scoured the country everywhere for them. But they’re gone! Disappeared without any clue.”
Terry watched Bud. She was almost certain that the boy was not telling the truth. She felt sure that he knew the whereabouts of Allan and Syd.
But the story he told half convinced Prim. “Maybe he is telling the truth, Terry,” she whispered at the first opportunity. “Maybe his intentions are good.”
“Good intentions!” stormed Terry in a low voice. “I wouldn’t trust that fellow as far as I could see him.”
Bud was talking once more. “You haven’t a chance of getting back to Harbor Grace today in this fog. You’d better come down to Jim Heron’s place where you can keep warm and get something to eat.”
“We’ve had our breakfast,” answered Terry, her head high, her nose in the air.
Prim gave her a dig with her elbow. Terry understood and when her sister agreed to the plan, Terry followed without a word. “Prim is always so sensible,” thought Terry. “Whatever would I do without her? She’s my balance wheel.”
“It’s warm there and it’s only a few hundred feet down the cliffside by the shore,” said Bud as he led the way.
Terry and Prim scrambled down the trail to the narrow inlet called Fish Cove, where rude shelters had been put up to house the fishermen and their families. A sickening odor of salted fish came to them long before they could see the houses in the sheltered canyon.
Bud took the girls by a round-about trail leading to Jim Heron’s house. It was the largest building in Fish Cove and stood there like a fortress, a two storied stone building, grim and forbidding in the fog.