Eddie didn’t answer. He stood looking around. It was easy to see why so few people were acquainted with that part of the coastline. Although there were no trees of any size, the rolling land which extended back from the bluff’s edge was covered with a dense tangle of brush. Only a foolish person would try clawing his way through it to get to the cove. The beach route was the easy way, as Teena had said.
Yet there was a faint path winding inland from the top of the bluff. It disappeared quickly into the brush. Fresh footprints indicated that it had been used recently.
“Now, why do you suppose anyone would go that way?” Eddie wondered aloud.
“I wouldn’t want to try it,” Teena said. “That brush would scratch my arms and legs.”
“Maybe it leads to that shack over there,” Eddie said, pointing.
He could see only the upper half of the small building. Probably it had once been a fisherman’s house. The other fishermen’s buildings must have rotted away and fallen into the weeds. The dampness of the seashore could rot timbers out if they weren’t kept up properly. Even the structure that still stood about two hundred yards away was badly weather-beaten and without paint. The shingles of the roof were crooked and partly blown away, leaving gaping holes.
“Come on, Eddie, let’s go back.”
“Well, I don’t know why anyone would want to go to that place,” Teena said. “Surely, no one lives there. It—it almost looks haunted. Come on, Eddie, let’s go back. It’s getting too late to visit Captain Daniels, anyway.”
“I’d like to get a good look at that shack,” Eddie said.