When he got there the water looked good to him, so he went in swimming.
The day was cool and there were few bathers.
One old white-haired man, a splendid swimmer, particularly attracted Young King Brady's attention and he fell into conversation with him.
He learned that the old fellow suffered terribly from insomnia.
"Why I often come down here and go in alone at midnight," he said, "and sometimes in the early morning hours. I was here this morning at a quarter to one."
"Is the place deserted then?" Harry asked.
"I don't believe the North Beach baths are ever deserted," replied the old man. "There are always a few old cranks like myself paddling about; sometimes we see strange sights."
"I suppose so. Suicides for instance?"
"Yes, I have seen more than I like to think of. I have personally prevented three. Last night I saw something which interested me, but, of course, I didn't butt in. I never do. I learned long ago to mind my own business in my nightly wanderings."
"What was that?" inquired Harry carelessly, for he was not paying very close attention to the old man's talk.