eat you!" called the young man, waving his hand to
the girls in Cora's boat. "You had more speed than I thought."

"Are you sure it was a fair race?" asked Cora, looking at him sharply.
Her tone was peculiar.

"A fair race? What do you mean?" he asked, wonderingly. "Do you think
I should have given myself more of a handicap?"

"Oh, no indeed!" exclaimed Cora, blushing that he should have mistaken
her meaning. "You were generous--too generous, I think."

"Oh, that's all right. I'm not complaining. Of course it was a fair
race. The faster boat won."

"I'm glad you think so," spoke Cora, meaningly, as she thought of the
partly-closed throttle.

"Oh, yes indeed. I'm satisfied!" he exclaimed in generous tones. "But
is the dangerous place you spoke of near here?"

"Right ahead," answered Cora, pointing to where the water was swirling
in over some partly-hidden rocks. "Keep well out, and when you round
the point you'll be at Bayhead."

"I'm greatly obliged to you," was his reply. But Cora did not look at
him, nor return his bow. She swung her boat around and started back
for the bungalow. The young man, with a curious glance at her, bent
over his motor to make some adjustment. In another instant his craft
shot ahead, seemingly at greater speed than it had made at any time
during the race.

"I don't think much of him," observed Lottie, as she took a more
comfortable position on the cushions.

"Why not?" Belle asked.

"Because he didn't even invite us to a tennis game, to say nothing of
ice cream sodas, and there's a place in Bayhead where they have the
most delicious chocolate!"

"Lottie!" gasped Marita. "Would you have gone with him?"

"Oh, well," with a shrug of her shoulders, "I don't know as I would,
only--he might have asked us."

"No, he wouldn't," said Cora, and the manner in which she spoke caused
her chums to look curiously at her.

"What makes you think so?" inquired Bess, merely for the sake of
argument. She had stopped eating sweets--for the time being.

"Because he had a special object in view in asking us to race, and
once that was accomplished he had no further use for us."

"Why, Cora Kimball!" cried Belle. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I think it. You didn't see all that I did."

"What did you see?" asked Bess, eagerly. "Did he have some sort of
weapon? Or do you think he tried to get us over this way, hoping we
would be wrecked on the rocks? Maybe he was a wrecker, Cora. I've
he