“That’s the kind of thing I like to hear,” Mr. Anderson said, smiling. “In that case, good luck.”
Soon, with Eddie at the oars, they started toward distant Cedar Point. Eddie set the course in a line which cut at an angle across the bay. As they were crossing the submerged sand bar, Teena pointed shoreward.
“Eddie, look,” she said.
Resting on the oars and following the direction of Teena’s finger, Eddie saw that they were directly offshore from the cove. He also saw the orange-and-white rowboat pulled up onto the beach.
Of even more importance, he saw two men making their way carefully down the narrow trail which zigzagged down the face of the bluff. Even from the distance, Eddie saw that one man was tall and thin, the other short and fat.
“It’s those two men!” he exclaimed.
“Of course. But don’t get so excited,” Teena said. “They’re probably just coming out fishing.”
“Coming from where?” Eddie asked. He knew there was only one place to come from—the shack. Then he remembered that Teena didn’t know about his visit to the shack yesterday.
“Well, anyway,” Teena said, “let’s get away from here before they come out to fish over this sand bar. They sure would think we were spying on them if they found us out here. I hope they don’t see us now.”
“To far away for them to tell who we are,” Eddie assured, sharing Teena’s dislike of meeting the two men again.