“Put in an invitation for him to come over and see us,” Ted added, after the six had stood off and regarded the sign critically. So Polly added down at the bottom,
“And we should be happy to entertain you at any time at the yacht club on Lost Island.”
“But what if he should come?” asked Isabel.
“He won’t,” retorted Polly, happily. “Smugglers aren’t a bit sociable. But if he should, we’ll survey him in the offing, and if he comes in a long, low rakish looking craft, we’ll all take to our heels, and run at once for Fair Havens. This is what grandfather would say was a courtly and polite thing to do after we had taken his Chili sauce, and it really was extra nice.”
Later Kate climbed to the top of the ruined tower again, and returned, after making a careful observation.
“When you were in the cave, Polly, did it seem to grow larger towards the interior?”
“I think so. I could stand up in it easily, and it arched at the back.”
“I don’t think it’s a cave at all. I was on a direct line with it up in the tower from the place where I stood, and I’m wondering if it isn’t a passage cut through to the tower to make a way of escape at some time.”
“Kate, I never thought that you were a romancer,” laughed Polly. “If it had been Isabel, we wouldn’t have been surprised, but for you—” she shook her head doubtfully. “I shouldn’t wonder if there were sea chests of gold, and all sorts of loot hidden away in there, but I’m not going in after them. Come on, girls. It’s after five, and the wind will die down soon.”
“I don’t see how we’re going to beat back against it, anyway,” Isabel said. “It’s blowing this way from the Knob instead of towards it.”