“He’s not seen us yet.”
Penny glanced about for a hiding place. The only one that offered was a huge sand dune. Pulling Louise along with her, she crouched down out of sight.
In a moment the old beachcomber came along. He was whistling and seemed to have not a care in the world. His face, viewed at close range, was weather-beaten, his hair uncombed, and his clothing had not been washed in many a day.
“What’s so mysterious about him?” Louise whispered. “Why did Mr. Emory say he’d bear watching?”
“Maybe he’s not really a beachcomber,” Penny returned, low. “He may be an Enemy Agent in disguise.”
“You have Enemy Agents on the brain!” Louise chuckled. “Likewise, man-snatching widows.”
The beachcomber passed within a few feet of the girls. He crossed the courtyard of the lighthouse and was seen to take a trail which led amid the rocks.
“Lou, perhaps he’s going to one of the caves!” Penny cried. “You know Mr. Emory said this locality is honeycombed with them.”
“Let him go,” Louise answered indifferently. “It’s lunch time and I’m hungry.”
“Your appetite will have to wait. I’m going to follow that man!”