“Oh, you hear funny things,” said Dan.
“Fact, though,” Bob asserted.
“Well, a few trees would help some now,” said Nelson. “It’s a lonely looking stretch, isn’t it? They say the State pays out thousands of dollars every year planting beach grass along here.”
“What for?” asked Tom suspiciously.
“To hold the sand,” Nelson replied. “The wind and the ocean play hob with the coast along here.”
“What’s that ahead there on the shore?” asked Bob, pointing.
“Looks like—Oh, I know! It’s the wireless-telegraph station,” answered Tom. “That’s Wellfleet.”
“Let’s get them to report us,” suggested Dan. “‘Passed South, launch Vagabond, Captain Tilford; all well except the cook who is suffering with stomach ache from too much candy.’”
“First thing I heard this morning,” said Nelson, “was Tommy chewing that peanut taffy stuff he bought. I’ll bet his bunk is full of it.”
“I don’t know about the bunk,” said Bob dryly, “but I’ll bet that Tommy is.”