“O Tubb! A-ay, Tubb!”
After several seconds had elapsed, Tubb’s face appeared in the open window and he looked down at Toby with simulated surprise. Then, as he looked, recollection dawned, and, “Oh! All right, Tucker! Be right down!” he called.
Toby kicked at a pebble. “Serve him right if I beat it,” he muttered vexedly. “Cheeky beggar! Still, he did it pretty well.” Unwilling admiration softened his rancor, and, “I’ll wait,” he added to himself.
Tubb clattered out of the entrance by the time that resolution of clemency had been reached and the two crossed the Prospect as if by mutual consent and took the graveled path that descended the terrace until it reached the winding road at the foot of the hill. Then, “Which way?” asked Toby.
“I don’t care,” answered Tubb. “It’s warmer along the beach, I guess. The wind’s sort of west to-day.”
“About northwest by north,” said Toby, to whom the direction of the wind and the look of the sky were matters of real interest. “It will be good and cold to-night, I guess.”
They crossed the road and went on by the path, over the deep cut through which the shining rails of the double tracks ran. Westward, they could follow the straight roadway to the Wissining station and the drawbridge beyond, eastward the railway vanished presently around a curve. A rod or two further on the path led into the woods, dividing, and they followed the right-hand trail. The oaks and beeches still held most of their leaves, but the other trees had stripped their branches for the winter, and underfoot the colorful litter rustled pleasantly. A moment later the Sound showed through the trees, softly blue in the afternoon sunlight. There wasn’t much talk until the two boys had reached the beach and turned eastward along the firm, hard sand. The tide was well out, and just above the little ripples of waves gleaming expanses of wet sand caught the sun blindingly. They by no means had the beach to themselves, for the mild afternoon had brought out many of the villagers and not a few of the school fellows, and, looking ahead down the gently-curving strand, they could see many darker specks against its golden surface. Out on the water a few pleasure craft were flitting under a light but steady breeze and Plum Island looked startlingly near.
“A peach of a day,” said Toby, breathing in the familiar scent of sea and shore, and experiencing a tiny qualm of homesickness. Tubb assented. He was looking fixedly at two boys who were approaching them along the beach. A moment later he grunted.
“There comes Frick,” he said. “Guess I’ll ask him something.”
“No, you won’t,” said Toby decisively. “You promised to behave yourself.”