"The bathing pools," explained Edith. "They show only when the
tide is very low. They keep back water for bathing."

"And a good job, too, when you have a tide that goes out of
sight," commented Frances approvingly, as she looked at the two
huge masonry walls near St. Helier's, set in the expanse of wet
sand. "Look at the boys sailing boats."

"Sometimes there are real races with little model yachts," said
Edith. "There's a club of the young officers and some of the
townspeople and they have the prettiest little miniature boats
with keels about a metre long, rigged exactly like real racing
yachts. It's great sport to see them. But ought we not to go
back?"

The girls turned for they were already far from home. To their
surprise they were presently greeted again by the collie who tore
up to hail them rapturously.

"Still chewing your stone?" Frances inquired. "Come along. I
suppose we'll have to take you part way back."

The collie flew for the pebble as though for the first time of the
afternoon. Before they had gone more than a quarter of a mile, a
pretty young lady came up.

"I'm afraid my bad Tylo has been bothering you," she said
apologetically. "He is forever coming on the sands and badgering
people into playing with him."