The boys had gone about half the distance and were going along a series of high sand dunes, covered with a growth of tall, rank grass, when they were suddenly halted by a voice calling to them:
“Where you fellows going?”
They looked up, to see a roughly dressed man barring the path.
“I don’t know’s it’s any of your business,” Jerry replied hotly, for he resented the man’s tone. “This is a free country.”
“That’s all right, my young friend,” the man said with a sneer, “but this is private property, and we don’t allow any trespassing on it. So you’d better be off if you know what’s good for you.”
“Can’t we go along the beach?” asked Ned.
“No, sir, you can’t go anywhere along here. We own for two miles back, and if you try to pass here you’ll get into trouble. So be off!”
The boys hesitated. There was no way of proving that what the man said was not so, and they did not want to get into trouble. To get past meant walking two miles back in shore. As they stood there, wondering what to do, another man came from somewhere in the tall grass and said to the first:
“The boat’s in the cove. Floated in at high tide.”
“That’ll do!” was the quick retort, as though the first man feared his companion would say too much. “I’m warning these chaps off our land.”