"Really I hadn't thought of the matter," answered Tom.
"The company can afford to pay its own bills," broke in Mr. Prenter, rather
gruffly.
"It's about time to turn in, isn't it?" asked Mr. Bascomb, striking a match
and glancing at his watch.
"I'm going to stay up a little longer, and talk with Reade about the dread
mystery of our million dollar breakwater, if he'll let me," hinted Mr.
Prenter.
Mr. Bascomb rose as though to go into the house.
"While we're talking about the matter, sir," suggested Tom, "wouldn't it
be a good idea for us to stroll down to the beach and look out along the
wall to see how Foreman Corbett and his gang are guarding the breakwater
to-night?"
"Fine idea," nodded the treasurer of the company.
"Then, if you're all going away, and intend to leave the house alone, I
think I may as well go with you," grunted Mr. Bascomb. "I don't exactly
like the idea of staying here alone in such troublesome times."
Harry walked beside Mr. Bascomb, while Tom led the way with the treasurer.
Mr. Renshaw brought up the rear.
As the party came in sight of the beach and glanced out seaward, they saw
many a little, dancing light out on the retaining wall.
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