"Oh, nothing," she said in some confusion. "Nothing at all."
"They may have gone over to that fisherman's hut, just to see what it was like," Mollie said. "You know the old woman was always teasing us to come in and have some milk. She may have been more persuasive this time, though Betty couldn't bear her."
"We'll have a look in that direction," suggested Henry.
"Yes, for I don't just like the looks of the weather," added Allen. "Henry and I will go over there," he said. "Roy, you stay here with the girls and help them pack up the things. We may have to make a run for it when we come back with Betty and Amy."
"If you find them," said Mollie, in a low voice—so low that no one heard her.
Allen and Henry set off over toward the sand dunes behind which was hidden the fisherman's shack. Grace, Mollie and Roy began collecting the picnic things.
The young law student and his chum made good time. Nor did they waste any when they reached the lone cabin. A glance up and down the beach showed no trace of the missing ones. In the offing a schooner was slowly sailing away.
"There goes that boat," remarked Allen. "Didn't seem to have any business around here—neither clamming or fishing."
"That's right," agreed Henry. He knocked, and, after waiting a moment, tried the latch. The door swung open, showing the place to be deserted.
"Betty—Amy!" called Allen.