their chums.

"Oh, you missed it," called Louise.

"We have met him," followed Grace.

"Did he invite you over?" asked Julia.

"Can he really talk?" inquired Helen.

"Just the same he is a nice boy," Grace declared.

"We always knew that," Julia told her.

"But, no joking, what did he say?" Helen asked seriously.

"Let me see! What did he say?" Grace was now asking Louise.

"Oh, don't tease. You know what we want to know," pleaded Julia.

"We don't know what _you_ want to know, neither do we know what _we_
want to know, for we couldn't find out," replied Louise promptly.

"Do you mean to say he didn't tell you a thing?" and Helen showed
disappointment.

"We wouldn't go so far as that, but he did not tell us anything
interesting, if that is what you mean," said Grace. "But do come and sit
down, we don't dare follow him inside the store."

"He's gone. I saw him steering his umbrella due north a moment ago,"
said Louise. "But, girls, really he is the nicest chap."

Then followed a complete review, almost word for word of the
conversation held with Bentley Arnold. Yet even this brought the
quartette no evident satisfaction.

"If this fog lets up I'm going over there, if I have to pay twenty-five
dollars for a sail in the South Park Air Ship. I know it came down with
a bad bump the other day, but I'd risk it for a sail to Luna Land,"
declared Grace.

"Let's go over to Captain Dave's now," said Helen. "He is the most
entertaining gentleman I know for this sort of weather."

"We found Bentley all right," qualified Louise. "And think of the name:
Bentley Arnold!"

"Did he say anything about his income tax?" asked Helen, but for an
answer the jaunt up the fog-laden boardwalk was undertaken, and only
those who have ever indulged in real mid-summer fogs, could really
appreciate description, and such do not need it--they know!

Captain Dave was glad to see the girls. He lighted the big oil lamp and
even offered to burn papers in the stove to "kill the chill," but the
girls insisted they would be perfectly comfortable without the heat.

"And Captain Dave, do you know about Kitty?" Grace plunged quickly as
politeness would permit.

"Know Kitty? Well, I should, seein' as how I unclasped her from her dead
mother's arms," replied the seaman, almost reverently.

"Then, Captain," this very gently from Louise, "why don't you do
something for the child? She runs wild as an Indian."

"Do something for her," and