In spite of this precaution some one knew whither they were headed, and no good came of it.
The little man of Witches Cove had an uncanny way of anticipating the arrival of visitors to his rugged shores. They found him seated on a great boulder with his feet dangling perilously near the water.
“Well, now!” he exclaimed. “Here we are all dressed up for a party. Two sisters and Cinderella. I suppose I am to fit out our little sister with a silver slipper.”
His round, good humored face grew suddenly sober as Ruth told their reason for coming. He interrupted her but once. Then he cautioned her to lower her voice.
“You have truly made a marvelous discovery,” he said when she had finished. “I’ve been looking for some such thing. It comes a little sooner than I expected. Three of my men will be on the afternoon boat from Boston. As soon as they are here we will formulate plans for action. In the meantime I shall have an eye on the old fort. They cannot remove a schooner load of silks from under my nose, I assure you.
“As for you,” his gaze swept the circle of three eager faces, “this, I take it, is going to be a splendid day for fishing. And when you fish,” his smile broadened, “you keep very still. In other words, mum it is. You must not breathe a word to another soul.”
“We won’t,” they said in unison.
So the day was well begun. But it was not ended, not by a good deal.
The three girls did not go fishing, at least not at once. They did accept the little man’s counsel in regard to the earlier happenings of the morning. Not one word regarding them passed their lips.
They did wish to go fishing, later in the day, but in the meantime there was work to be done. Summer folks must have their clam chowder. To Ruth and Pearl fell the lot of digging the clams. All forenoon, under the boiling sun, ankle deep in mud and sand, they dug and clawed away with their clam forks until three great baskets were heaped high with blue-black clams. Then they hurried home to dinner.