“I said that this seems good,” he called back. For, although they were almost within touch, the roar of the breakers and their accompanied undertow was so loud as to drown conversation.
“Better than fighting Majeronas with pincushions?” he heard her mischievously ask.
At this he followed a receding breaker, and snatching a clump of seaweed from the swirl, he returned and threatened to crown the Peruvian with the dripping mass unless she offered an apology.
“I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” she shouted, endeavoring to rise. “Oh, look at the beautiful starfish you have in the bunch!”
Harvey deposited the seaweed at her feet, and Rosita came over with Carl and Louis, to examine closely the red stellerid that had been so unexpectedly captured. The time passed only too quickly, and all were surprised when Louis, looking at his watch, and recalling the remark he had made to his father, said they must hasten home, for they had been absent from the house nearly an hour.
On the return, when halfway between the beach and the Dartmoor Row, as the house owned by the boys’ father and those adjacent to it were called, Carl proposed a race.
“I can’t run,” protested Bella Caceras.
“Oh, try,” urged Louis.
“Let me whisper in your ear,” said Rosita, and then exclaiming, “Pardon me, boys,” she said to her friend, very low, “Let’s start with them, then you and I stop suddenly, and walk on. We will have a nice talk all alone and they’ll never notice it.”
“Very well.”