“Hallo — are these your kids?” said one of the men, stopping.

“They’ve just come in from the beach,” said Aunt Fanny, hurriedly. “I’m afraid they are not really fit to be seen. I…”

“Great snakes!” said the man, “don’t you dare to apologise for kids like these! I never saw such a fine lot in my life — they’re wunnerful!”

He spoke with an American accent, and beamed all over his face. The children warmed to him at once. He turned to George’s father. “These all yours?” he asked. “I bet you’re proud of them! How did they get that tan — they look like Red Indians! My, my — I wish my Berta looked like that!”

“They’re not all mine,” said Uncle Quentin, looking quite horrified at the thought. “Only this one is mine,” and he put his hand on George’s shoulder. “The others are nephews and a niece.”

“Well, I must say you’ve got a fine boy,” said the American, ruffling George’s short curls. As a rule she hated people who did that, but because he mistook her for a boy, she grinned happily!

“My girl’s going to your school,” he said to Anne. “Give her a bit of help, will you? She’ll be scared stiff at first.”

“Of course I will,” said Anne, taking a liking to the huge loud-voiced American. He didn’t look a bit like a scientist. The other man did, though. He was round-shouldered and wore owl-like glasses, and, as Uncle Quentin often did, he stared into the distance as if he was not hearing a single word that anyone said.

Uncle Quentin thought this gossiping had lasted long enough. He waved the children away.

“Come and have lunch,” he said to the other men. The second man followed him at once, but the big American stayed behind. He thrust his hands into his pocket and brought out a pound note. He gave it to Anne.

“Spend that on yourselves,” he said. “And be kind to my Berta, won’t you?”

He disappeared into the dining-room and shut the door with a loud bang. “Goodness — what will Father say to a bang like that?” said George, with a sudden giggle. “I like him, don’t you? That must be his car outside. I can’t imagine the other man even riding a bicycle, let alone driving a car!”

“Children — take your picnic basket and go!” said Aunt Fanny, urgently. “I must run and see that everything is all right!”

She thrust a big basket into Julian’s hands, and disappeared into the dining-room. Julian grinned as he felt the weight of the basket.

“Come along,” he said. “This feels good! Back to the beach, everyone!”

Chapter Two

A visitor in the night

The five were on the beach in two minutes, and Julian undid the basket. It was full of neatly packed sandwiches, and packets of biscuits and chocolate. A bag contained ripe plums, and there were two bottles of lemonade.

“Home-made!” said Dick, taking it out. “And icy-cold. And what’s this? A fruit cake — a whole fruit cake — we’re in luck.”