the fact of their being
horrid, as you call it, should not deprive them of the stones," Betty
said.

"We ought to get a reward, anyhow," spoke Amy.

"That's right, little girl!" exclaimed Betty. "Well, I do wish it was
settled, one way or the other. Having fifty thousand dollars' worth of
diamonds, more or less, in one's possession isn't calculated to make one
sleep nights. And I just would love one of those big sparklers in a
ring. I think----"

But Betty did not complete her sentence. There was a rattling sound on
the farther side of a sand dune around which the girls were just then
making their way. Some gravel and shells seemed to be sliding down the
declivity.

"What's that?" asked Grace, shrinking back against Betty.

"I don't know," answered the Little Captain. "Maybe the wind."

But it was not the wind, for, a moment later, the wrinkled face of the
aged crone of the fisherman's cabin peered at the girls from over the
rushes that grew in the sand hill.

"Oh, excuse me, my dears," she said in her cracked voice. "I didn't see
you. Out for a walk again; aren't you, my dears? Won't you come up to my
cottage, and have a glass of milk?"

"No, thank you," Betty answered, and she could not help being "short,"
as she said afterward. "We are going on a little picnic."

She swung around into another path between the dunes, and changed her
mind about going to look at the hole near the broken spar, where the
diamonds had been found.

"Oh, I wonder if she heard us?" whispered Mollie, as they lost sight of
the old crone around the rushes and dunes.

"I hope not," said Betty, and her usually smiling face wore a worried
look.

CHAPTER XX

CAUGHT

"That woman seems to--persecute us!" burst out Mollie, when the girls
were well on their way again, out of range of the sand dunes, going down
the beach where the salty air of the ocean and bay blew in their faces.

"Oh, hardly as bad as _that_," remarked Amy.

"Well, she always seems to be following us," insisted Mollie, "and I am
positively tired of being asked to her cottage to drink milk."

"I'd never touch a thing she offered," said Betty. "I would be afraid it
wouldn't be--clean."

"She always seems to leer at one so," went on Mollie.

"Oh, you're making out a terrible case against the old woman," Grace put
in, carefully selecting a chocolate from her supply.

"Well, she is very persistent," observed Betty. "And now let's forget
all about her, and