“Say,” drawled Norton, “if we find Nancy Ford and Mrs. Raymond we’ll be doing a good thing.”
“If,” observed Ed, significantly.
CHAPTER XVIII
BELLE SWIMS
The tide was just right. In their newest bathing suits the motor girls had assembled on the beach in the hot sun. Their white arms and necks showed the winter of indoors, but their faces had already taken on the tan of the seaside. Soon arms and necks would be in accord.
The boys were out on the float, splashing about, occasionally “shooting the chutes” and diving from the pier.
“Is the water cold?” asked Cora, going down to where the waves splashed on the pebbles. Daintily she dipped in–just a toe. “How is it, Jack?”
Jack was tumbling about near the beach like a porpoise.
“Sw–swell!” he managed to gasp, the hesitancy being because a wave insisted on looking at his tongue, or trying to scrub his already white teeth–Cora could not decide which.
“Is it really warm?”