The man nodded. “Well, if that is so, and if you mind your own business, you may like it. But it ain’t healthy around here for snoopers, nor folks that are too cur’ous. That’s all.” The man stalked away, tying more tightly a red handkerchief around his neck, and hitching up the collar of his rough coat. The ocean breeze was growing a little chilly.
But a thought occurred to Dalton and he spoke again to the man. “Wait a moment, please. How about these woods and the places around here,—are they safe for my sisters and our friend?”
“Yes, safe enough. It’s too far from the railroad for tramps and thieves and there ain’t no good roads for the fellers with cars. The folks over at Steeple Rocks growl about that.”
“We have neighbors over in that direction, then?”
“So you didn’t know that. H’m. You don’t know much about this place, if your father did buy it.”
“No. None of us were ever here before.”
“And your father’s dead.”
Dalton looked up surprised at that, for he had purposely avoided answering that question about his father. The man grinned a little. “I reckon a kid like you wouldn’t be talkin’ about buildin’ a cabin himself if he had a father. Have you got a boat?”
“No, but we’re going to have one.”
“Remember what I said, then, about minding your own affairs.”