Poor Grace looked a little startled at this combined attack on her.
"Why, I—I haven't done anything," she said, innocently enough. "I just asked when you were going to eat and you take me up as though I had proposed throwing those—'apples'—we found, into the sea."
"If you look back along the way you'll see at least three empty candy bags," declared Betty.
"Oh, well, they were little bags," protested Grace. "I had them put in small bags on purpose so I would know just how much I was eating."
"I don't believe you ever know how much candy you are eating," laughed Mollie. "Never mind, Grace, we all have our faults."
"We'll eat soon," promised Betty. "I want to get in the shade."
They strolled on, walking near the wet edge of the sand where the tide was coming in, for that section of the beach made firmer footing.
"There's a good place for our picnic," finally decided Mollie, as she saw a little clump of scrub evergreens which grew rather close to the water. "We can eat and have a fine view at the same time."
"Is that the boys' boat out there?" asked Mollie, as they made their way toward the bit of shade.
"No, that's a small schooner. It's been anchored there for some days," Betty said. "There's something queer about it, too."