s sit down and just look at the ocean," suggested Amy, when they
had walked some distance down the beach, and while they were thus idly
employed, and when the afternoon was waning, they spied a solitary
figure approaching them down the stretch of sand.

"It's Old Tin-Back," said Betty. "I wonder if he is looking for us?"

"He seems to be looking for something on the beach," commented Grace,
"and unless he thinks we have slipped down one of those funny little
holes the sand fleas make, I can't see how he could be searching for
us."

But the old lobsterman had a message for them, nevertheless, for when
he came within hailing distance he called hoarsely:

"Ahoy there, young ladies! Your folks want you to come back. I told 'em
I'd tell you if I saw you as I come along, and I done it."

"What were you looking for--treasure?" asked Grace, with a mischievous
smile at Amy.

"Treasure? Humph, no, miss. I was looking for some of my lobster pots. A
lot of them dragged their moorings in the last storm, and they get cast
upon the beach sooner or later."

"Did you ever find any treasure on the beach?" demanded Betty.

"Wa'al, no, not exactly what you could call _treasure_!" was the slow
and cautious answer, "but I did find a pipe once, an' it lasted me for
quite a while. Found it jest after I lost my corncob, too. So, in a
manner of speakin', I did find suthin'."

"But never gold, or diamonds or _real_ treasure, washed up from a
wreck?" asked Amy, eagerly.

"No, miss."

"Are there ever wrecks?" inquired Betty.

"Oh, yes, once in a while, though not usually this time of year. In the
winter the sea's altogether different, miss. It's terrible cruel and
cold. Then we have wrecks. Why, right off there, two year ago," and
with a gnarled finger he pointed though at no particular object as far
as the girls could see, "right off there a three-master went down one
night in a January, and all hands--eleven of 'em--was drownded."

"Didn't anyone try to save them?" asked Grace.

[Illustration: THE OLD LOBSTERMAN PEERED THROUGH A BATTERED SPY-GLASS.
"THAT'S HER," HE ANNOUNCED.--_Page 51._

_The Outdoor Girls at Ocean View._]

"Oh, yes, they tried, miss, but they couldn't launch the boat, and the
wind was blowin' so they couldn't shoot a line over. The boat went to
pieces on the bar, and the bodies washed ashore next day."

He told it simply, and was silent for a space.

"Does anything ever wash ashore from the wrecks?" asked