CHAPTER XI
The Man With The Glass Eye
By the time Jack and Hal had painfully assumed sitting positions the arrival had beached his dory and was stepping ashore.
“Who is it?” asked Hal.
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe a clammer. Which way did he come, Bee?”
“Search me. I only saw him when he was shoving his boat onto the sand. What’s a clammer?”
“A man who digs clams,” laughed Jack. “I guess he’s coming up to look us over.”
The man had pulled up his dory—a rather disreputable looking craft sadly in need of paint—just inside the mouth of the river and was slowly climbing the slope. When he reached the place where the boys had been digging he stopped and examined the excavations for fully a minute. Then he came on and the campers had their first good look at him.