One morning, after a very high tide, the boys came down to find a good ten feet or more of their work washed away. They were terribly cast down.
"How on earth did it happen?" groaned Ted. "Do you suppose we didn't protect the end properly?"
"I don't see any other explanation," said Will, gloomily.
"But if the stones were swept off by the tide," exclaimed Ted, with sudden significance, "wouldn't they be lying to one side or the other? These look as if they had been pulled off!"
"By the great horn spoon, you've hit it, young one!" cried Will, excited beyond his wont. "Good for you! The tide never did it! Some one has been helping the tide!"
"Will Hen Baizley!" declared Ted. "I shouldn't wonder a bit!" said Will. "Well, Ted, there's nothing to do but go to work and build it up again. And to-night, why, we'll 'lay for him,' that's all!"
Doggedly and wrathfully the boys toiled all day. At tea they told their mother what had occurred. Mrs. Carter was furious. But when Will declared their intention of watching that night for the depredator, her anger vanished in fear. At first she forbid positively all thought of such a thing. Will declared that he must do it--it simply had to be done. Thereupon she said she would forbid Ted going. At this Ted burst forth indignantly.
"What, mother, would you have me leave Will all alone out there?" An idea which was, of course, to Mrs. Carter intolerable. She forgot to be imperative; she became appealing.
"But, muz," said Will, reassuringly, "there is no danger at all. You can trust me, can't you? Ted and I will each take a good, big club, and if, as we think, it is Will Hen Baizley, we'll give him a pounding that will keep him civil for a while."
"But what if he should have some ruffians with him?" urged the mother.