CHAPTER IV
THE RED OAR
“This way, Cora. The sand is so heavy out there it is better to keep near the edge,” said Freda, as the two girls tramped along in the deep sand of the seashore that banded Crystal Bay.
“But isn’t it perfectly beautiful along here?” exclaimed Cora, in rapt delight. “I had no idea the little place could be so charming.”
“Oh, yes,” returned Freda, with a suspicion of a sigh. “Over there, just in that splendid green stretch is, or was, grandfather’s place. It runs all along to the island, and on the other side there is a stream that has been used for a mill race.”
“Over there!” Cora repeated. “Why, that looks like the very best part of the bay. And that house on the hill?”
“Grandfather’s own home and—mother’s,” finished Freda.
“Is it rented now?”
“Yes, we have rented it for three years, and it has brought us quite a little income,” said Freda.
“But you see that is cut off now. I am sure I do not know who collects the rents.”