Part 7 (2/2)

I never--”

The freckled man ran down into the sea.

CHAPTER II

The cool, swirling waters took his temper from him, and it became a thing that is lost in the ocean. The tall man floundered in, and the two forgot and rollicked in the waves.

The freckled man, in endeavoring to escape from mankind, had left all save a solitary fisherman under a large hat, and three boys in bathing-dress, laughing and splas.h.i.+ng upon a raft made of old spars.

The two men swam softly over the ground swells.

The three boys dived from their raft, and turned their jolly faces sh.o.r.ewards. It twisted slowly around and around, and began to move seaward on some unknown voyage. The freckled man laid his face to the water and swam toward the raft with a practised stroke. The tall man followed, his bended arm appearing and disappearing with the precision of machinery.

The craft crept away, slowly and wearily, as if luring. The little wooden plate on the freckled man's head looked at the sh.o.r.e like a round, brown eye, but his gaze was fixed on the raft that slyly appeared to be waiting. The tall man used the little wooden plate as a beacon.

At length the freckled man reached the raft and climbed aboard. He lay down on his back and puffed. His bathing-dress spread about him like a dead balloon. The tall man came, snorted, shook his tangled locks and lay down by the side of his companion.

They were overcome with a delicious drowsiness. The planks of the raft seemed to fit their tired limbs. They gazed dreamily up into the vast sky of summer.

”This is great,” said the tall man. His companion grunted blissfully.

Gentle hands from the sea rocked their craft and lulled them to peace.

Lapping waves sang little rippling sea-songs about them. The two men issued contented groans.

”Tom,” said the freckled man.

”What?” said the other.

”This is great.”

They lay and thought.

A fish-hawk, soaring, suddenly, turned and darted at the waves. The tall man indolently twisted his head and watched the bird plunge its claws into the water. It heavily arose with a silver gleaming fish.

”That bird has got his feet wet again. It's a shame,” murmured the tall man sleepily. ”He must suffer from an endless cold in the head. He should wear rubber boots. They'd look great, too. If I was him, I'd--Great Scott!”

He had partly arisen, and was looking at the sh.o.r.e.

He began to scream. ”Ted! Ted! Ted! Look!”

”What's matter?” dreamily spoke the freckled man. ”You remind me of when I put the bird-shot in your leg.” He giggled softly.

The agitated tall man made a gesture of supreme eloquence. His companion up-reared and turned a startled gaze sh.o.r.eward.

”Lord!” he roared, as if stabbed.

The land was a long, brown streak with a rim of green, in which sparkled the tin roofs of huge hotels. The hands from the sea had pushed them away. The two men sprang erect, and did a little dance of perturbation.

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