“There ye be, Mr. Lawford,” crowed the man, “as chipper as a sandpiper.  But I swanny, I didn’t ever expect t’ hail ye again this side o’ Jordan, one spell yest’day.”

“You had your glass on us, did you?” Lawford said languidly.

“I did, young man—­I did.  An’ when that bobbin’ skiff walloped ye on the side of the head I never ‘spected t’ see you come up again.  If it hadn’t been for this little lady who------Shucks, now!  This ain’t her ’tall, is it?”

“Oh, Mr. Tapp, were you in a boating accident yesterday?” cried Miss Louder.

“I was overboard—­yes,” responded Lawford, but rather blankly, for he was startled by the lightkeeper’s statement.  “What do you mean, Jonas?” to the lightkeeper.  “Didn’t Betty Gallup haul me inboard?”

“Bet Gallup—­nawthin’!” exploded Jonas with disgust.  “She handled that sloop o’ yourn all right.  I give her credit for that.  But ’twas that there gal stayin’ at Cap’n Abe’s.  Ye had her out with ye, eh?”

“Miss Grayling?  Certainly.”

“She’s some gal, even if she is city bred,” was the lightkeeper’s enthusiastic observation.  “An’ quick!  My soul!  Ye’d ought to seen her kick off her skirt an’ shoes an’ dive after ye!  I swanny, she was a sight!”

“I should think she would have been!” gasped Miss Louder with some scorn.  “Goodness me, she must be a regular stunt actress!” and she laughed shrilly.

But Lawford gave her small attention.  “Jonas, do you mean that?” he asked.  “I thought it was Betty who saved me.  Why, dad said this morning he was going to send the old woman a check.  He doesn’t much approve of me,” and the heir of the Taffy King smiled rather grimly, “but as I’m the last Tapp——­”

“He’s glad ye didn’t git done for com-pletely, heh?” suggested Jonas, and giggled.  “I wouldn’t for a minute stand in the way of Bet Gallup’s gittin’ what’s due her.  She did pick ye both up, Lawford.  But, land sakes! ye’d been six fathoms down, all right, if it hadn’t been for that gal at Cap’n Abe’s.”

“I—­I had no idea of it.  I never even thanked her,” muttered Lawford.  “What can she think of me?”

But not even Miss Louder heard this.  She realized, however, that the young man who she had been told was “the greatest catch at The Beaches” was much distrait and that her conversation seemed not to interest him at all.

They went back toward the scene of the film activities.  It was the hour of the usual promenade on the sands.  Everybody in the summer colony appeared on the beach while the walking along the water’s edge was fine.  This promenade hour was even more popular than the bathing hour which was, of, course, at high tide.

Groups of women, young and old, strolled under gay parasols, or camped on the sands to chat.  Brilliantly striped marquees were set up below some of the cottages, in which tea and other refreshments were served.  The younger people fluttered about, talking and laughing, much like a flock of Mother Carey’s chickens before a storm.