“Come along, you!” cried old Johnston, lifting him to his feet. “No such heathen goin’s-on for my Helga. Not that I think you know what you’re doin’,” he added.
“You mustn’t go with him alone, Princess,” said Haynes quickly. “He seems to be insane.”
“Father will go with me,” she replied; “though I’m safe enough. It isn’t there the danger lies.”
“Helga,” said Haynes seriously, “I wish you wouldn’t let yourself be so influenced by your dreams.”
“I’ll try not to, Petit Père,” said the girl gently. “But, look how it has all come about. Yet I can’t see how a strange creature like that could possibly influence all our lives.”
“You don’t half believe it yourself,” said Haynes positively.
“Sometimes I don’t,” she agreed. “But we who are born of the sea, dream the sea’s dreams, you know, Petit Père.”
“Well, get into dry clothes as soon as you get to the station, Princess. Oh, and get me that fellow’s name and address, will you?”
“Yes,” said the girl, as, with her father, she led her strange charge away toward the Sand Spit station.
“Now,” said Haynes to Colton, “will you come up on the cliff and look at my man?”