s thickening all the time."

By now the boys had reached the shore and well above the tide mark
they began to strip, dropping their clothes in heaps. Frank continued
talking as he shed his garments:

"So we decided to go up to the city and ask Mr. McKay who it was had
taken the Brownell place. Instead of Mr. McKay we found his secretary,
Higginbotham, who professed to know nothing about the matter. Yet,
when we arrive down here, we find Higginbotham in the radio plane,
visiting a schooner well off shore.

"Say, fellows," he added, as having dropped the last article of
clothing, he stood prepared to plunge in; "that man Higginbotham must
have left his office immediately after we interviewed him, and
probably came down by motor car. We spent two or three hours longer in
the city, which gave him the chance to beat us. Now what brought him
down here?"

"Search me," said Bob. "There may be a big liquor plot, and he may be
in it. Probably, is. Perhaps he was alarmed at our inquiries and
hurried down to keep things quiet for a while."

"That's just what he did, Bob, I do believe," said Jack, approvingly.
"I believe you've hit it."

"Oh, well, come on," said Bob. "Let's have this plunge."

Scooping up two handsful of wet sand he flung it at his companions.
Then the fight began.

Forty-five minutes later, as they strolled across the lawn of the
Temple home, Della came running to join them from the tennis court
where she was playing with a girl visitor.

"Where have you been?" she cried. "Some man has been calling for the
three of you on the telephone. Two or three times in the last hour."

"Calling for us, Sis?" said Bob. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," she said. "He hasn't given his name. I believe he's
calling from New York."

The boys looked at each other, puzzled. Who could it be?

"Oh, there's Mary again," said Della, pointing to a maid who at that
moment emerged on the side veranda, overlooking the tennis court.

"Mister Robert, you're wanted on the telephone," came the maid's
voice.

Bob hurried indoors, Jack at his heels. Frank hung behind.

"Well, Mr. Frank Merrick," said Della pertly. "Give an account of
yourself, if you please. What were you boys doing in the city to-day?
You think you're grand, don't you, to go flying off in your airplane,
on the very day I invite a girl down here to meet you?"

"Is she good looking, Della?" asked Frank, anxiously. "I won't meet
her if she isn't good looking."