They hoisted the anchor again, moved nearer the place, and once more the glass was used.
“I can’t see a sign of anybody,” Emma Tash declared. “I’m going up there.”
Once more Terry pulled up the mud-hook, and again the oars were used by the detective. But just as she was easing up, in preparation to letting the boat glide up the mucky beach, a man’s voice called:
“Keep away from here! I don’t let nobody land!”
George Clayton suddenly appeared in front of his shack, holding a long pole.
“Get away!” he cried. “This is a private beach! You can crab all you want to out there, but don’t land. I’ve warned you!”
“Well, that’s that,” said Terry in a low voice. She held her head down. In spite of the fact that she was wearing a big straw hat, she feared the man might recognize her.
But Emma Tash did not give up so easily.
“Can’t we land and get a drink of water?” she called.
“No! Keep off!”