They did not stay in the water long on this first occasion, but they all found it invigorating and Dalton insisted that after the first he did not notice the scratches. “I’m hurrying off now,” he said, after they came out of the water. “I’ll probably have to get the name of the man Father bought the place of from the deed. I wish we’d brought our deed with us. Perhaps Beth will remember it, and I can ask her casually, ‘by the way, Beth, do you remember,’ and so forth?”
“I’ll ask her, and tell you. You’ll not be dressed before we get there.”
“No. Take your time. Don’t hurry Sarita up the cliff and maybe have some accident yourself. Turned out to be Ives’ daughter?”
“Yes, I suppose so, by the way he bossed her, and her name is Peggy Ives. Didn’t you kind of like her?”
“A smart little thing. She screamed just before she jumped; but she was plucky about her bruises. I shouldn’t be surprised but she sprained her ankle. Get acquainted, girls. Perhaps the stern parent will relent toward us.”
“I think I see ourselves calling at Steeple Rocks! You’d better go. You have been invited, you know.”
Dalton laughed and ran on, his bathrobe flapping about his ankles.
But like Peggy, Dalton was not feeling “so good.” He had fairly thought at the impact that his shoulder was broken or dislocated. Then he found, as they picked themselves out of the blackberry briars, that it was not. The cold sea water felt good to it and he gave himself a vigorous rubbing both in and out of the water, not trying to swim out far from shore, a sensible plan in any event, since they did not know the coast here. Now his shoulder ached.
When Leslie came into the little camp, shortly after his own arrival, he called to her. “Any of that liniment, Les, that I use?”
“Yes, Dal. Do you suppose that Beth would go anywhere with you along and no liniment?”