The little ragamuffin girl was down on the beach again! She was alone. Her dreadful old father, or whatever he was, was not there.

George saw the girl first and scowled. Julian saw the scowl and then the girl, and made up his mind at once. He led the others firmly to where rocks jutted up from the beach, surrounded by limpid rock-pools.

“We’ll be here today,” he said. “It’s so hot we’ll be glad of the shade from the rocks. What about just here?”

“It’s all right,” said George, half sulky and half amused at Julian for being so firm about things. “Don’t worry. I’m not having anything more to do with that smelly girl.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Julian. They had now turned a corner, and were out of sight of the girl. Big rocks ran in an upwards direction behind them, and jutted up all around them. Julian sat down in a lovely little corner, with rocks protecting them from the sun and the wind.

“Let’s have a read before we bathe,” said Dick. “I’ve got a mystery story here. I simply MUST find out who the thief is.”

He settled himself comfortably. Anne went to look for sea anemones in the pool. She liked the petal-like creatures that looked so like plants and weren’t. She liked feeding them with bits of biscuit, seeing their ‘petals’ close over the fragment and draw them quickly inside.

George lay back and stroked Timmy. Julian began to sketch the rocks around, and the little pools. It was all very peaceful indeed.

Suddenly something landed on George’s middle and made her jump. She sat up, and so did Timmy.

“What was that?” said George indignantly. “Did you throw something at me, Dick?”

“No,” said Dick, his eyes glued to his book.

Something else hit George on the back of the neck, and she put her hand up with an exclamation. “What’s happening? Who’s throwing things?”

She looked to see what had hit her. Lying on the sand was a small roundish thing. George picked it up. “Why — it’s a damson stone,” she said. And ‘Ping’! Another one hit her on the shoulder. She leapt up in a rage.

She could see nobody at all. She waited for another damson stone to appear, but none did.

“I just wish I could draw your face, George,” said Julian, with a grin. “I never saw such a frown in my life. Ooch!”

The “ooch!” was nothing to do with George’s frown; it was caused by another damson stone that caught Julian neatly behind the ear. He leapt to his feet too. A helpless giggle came from behind a rock some way behind and above them. George was up on the ledge in a second.

Behind one of the rocks sat the ragamuffin girl. Her pockets were full of damsons, some of them spilling out as she rolled on the rocks, laughing. She sat up when she saw George, and grinned.