WHILE Vevi stood perfectly still, Jamie sneaked up on the turtle. Clover was sunning himself on the log, barely moving his claws.

Closer and closer Jamie crept, taking care not to splash in the water. He was almost on the turtle when it stretched its neck sideways. Apparently it saw the boy, for quick as a flash it flopped into the water.

“Oh, dear, there goes my chance of winning the race Saturday,” sighed Vevi. “We’ll never get him now.”

Jamie watched but the turtle did not reappear on the surface of the pond.

“Time to go,” shouted Captain Tarwell. “Shake a leg, you kids.”

Vevi and Jamie teased to stay a few minutes longer, but the seaman had grown tired of waiting. Besides, he had promised he would have them back at the beach by an early hour.

Jamie started to wade in. He was nearly ashore when he halted again. An object in the reeds had drawn his attention.

“Avast, there!” called the captain. “None o’ that restin’ on the oars! Come along with you!”

“But I see something fluttering in the reeds!” Jamie exclaimed. “It’s not a turtle either! It’s something alive and it’s white!”

“I see it too!” cried Vevi. “It looks like a duck!”

Jamie started to wade over toward the reeds. Captain Tarwell let him go, because he wondered too what it was the boy had seen.

By this time Jamie had reached the reed patch. He scooped in his hand and pulled a white bird from the water.

“It’s a pigeon! A carrier pigeon!” he called to those on shore.

Vevi became very excited.

“Maybe it’s Snow White!” she exclaimed. “Is there a leg band with a number, Jamie?”

Carrying the pigeon, the boy waded ashore. “It has a number, but it’s smeared with oil and I can’t read the figures,” he announced. “The bird’s feathers are soaked with oil. I’m getting it all over me.”

Vevi was certain the moment she saw the bird that it was the missing Snow White. Captain Tarwell wiped oil from the pigeon’s wings and the leg band. With the metal plate clean again, he could read the numerals. They were 68971.

“It’s the same pigeon all right,” the captain confirmed. “Dash my binnacles, if it isn’t!”

“The bird’s been in a fight, maybe with a hawk,” guessed Jamie. “See, there’s a bloody mark on his head. He doesn’t seem much hurt though.”

Captain Tarwell examined the pigeon carefully. Except for a slight head wound, he could find no injury.

“It was the oil on his feathers that kept him from rising into the air again,” he told the children. “When he fell or lighted on the pond, he must have settled into a patch of oil. He’d have starved to death if we hadn’t come along.”

Vevi was very pleased to have found Snow White again. She wanted to take the pigeon to Starfish Cottage.

Captain Tarwell said they would carry the bird instead to Mr. Green’s loft. “It won’t be much out of our way,” he declared.

When the children and Captain Tarwell arrived at the pigeon loft twenty minutes later, Mr. Green was very busy. He was working on his records which he said were not being kept up properly.

“I need a likely boy to help me,” he told Captain Tarwell. “Know of anyone who would like a job?”

“How about Jamie here?” asked the captain, half seriously and half in jest.

“I’d like to work with pigeons!” exclaimed Jamie. “How much will you pay, Mr. Green?”

The pigeon cote owner did not answer the question. He looked Jamie over carefully.

“You’re too young,” he said finally. Then, seeing how disappointed Jamie looked, he added: “But I’ll think it over. Come around in a day or two.”

Mr. Green had not seemed very pleased to have the lost carrier pigeon returned to the loft.

“That bird is worthless,” he declared impatiently. “I’m through bothering with it. Or feeding it either!”

“Won’t you give Snow White another chance?” Vevi pleaded. “He couldn’t rise from the water no matter how hard he tried. His wings were all coated with oil when Jamie rescued him.”

“I know,” agreed Mr. Green. “But if it isn’t one thing, its another. White birds are more subject to attack than pigeons of another color. This bird isn’t strong enough to be a valuable racer. So I’ll cull it out.”

“Don’t do that,” pleaded Vevi quickly. “Give the bird to me.”

“You’re welcome to it. But where will you keep the pigeon?”

Vevi knew that Mrs. Williams and Miss Gordon would not want her to have it at the cottage.

“I can give you a cage for it,” Mr. Green offered. “And enough feed to last a week. I’m warning you though, a bird is a lot of work.”

Captain Tarwell told Vevi that she might keep the cage in the yard of the ship cottage.

“For a few days, that is,” he added. “By that time you’ll tire of looking after the pigeon and be willing to let it fly away.”

“Oh, no!” protested Vevi. “I’ll never want to give up Snow White.”

“If you decide to let the bird go, I hope it doesn’t fly back here,” spoke up Mr. Green.

After watching the pigeon cote owner feed some of his birds, Captain Tarwell and the children walked back to the ship cottage.

They found a sheltered place for the cage, and after feeding and watering the bird, left it there.

“I’m afraid Snow White will be lonesome,” Vevi said anxiously.

“I come here often,” the captain reassured her. “I’ll look in now and then to see how he’s doing. I’m not worried about the bird being lonesome. I’m more afraid he’ll be chilled. Pigeons need a warm, snug nest.”

The trio walked on down the road toward the beach. A breeze was blowing off the sea, sending in long, rolling waves.

“Lots of white horses today,” remarked the captain.

Vevi didn’t know what he meant until he told her that whitecaps on the waves were called white horses in seamen’s slang.

“A large wave is a smokehouse,” he explained. “The long rolling ones are beachcombers. That little wave over by the pier is a white nose.”

Vevi turned her head to see the wave the captain had pointed out. The little “white nose” snubbed itself against the post of the pier and vanished even as she watched.

At the shore end of the pier where a long line of cars had been parked, a crowd had gathered. Amid the throng, Vevi saw Miss Gordon and several of the Brownies.

“Why, what is everyone doing there?” she asked quickly. “Maybe there’s been an accident!”

“Something does seem to be wrong,” agreed the captain.

Vevi and Jamie raced on ahead of him to learn why such a large crowd had gathered.

Nearing the pier, they met Jane and Connie coming along the beach.

“Has there been an accident?” Vevi asked the two Brownies.

“That’s what we want to find out,” Connie answered.

The four children hastened on, reaching the end of the pier where so many grownups had gathered. In the center of the crowd they saw a middle-aged woman in a white suit talking excitedly to the lifeguard, Barney Fulsom.

“It happened while I was in the little curio shop,” she told the guard. “Why, I wasn’t gone ten minutes. When I came out, I saw a man walking away from the car. I thought nothing of it until I discovered that the glove compartment had been opened.” “What was taken, Mrs. Allison?” the guard asked her.

“My coin purse. I shouldn’t have left it there with the car unlocked—that I realize. But I barely turned my back.”

“How much did you lose, Mrs. Allison?”

“A ten dollar bill and odd change. The little purse was brown leather set off with gold initials A.W.A.”

By this time Vevi, Connie, Jane and Jamie had drawn in close to hear what was being said. Also in the crowd were Mrs. Williams, Miss Gordon, Sunny and Rosemary.

“I’m certain it was a man in black bathing trunks and light brown sweat shirt who took the purse,” Mrs. Allison continued. “At least I saw him walking away from the car. He mingled with the other bathers and I lost sight of him.”

The life guard was quite disturbed about the theft. Even though Mrs. Allison had left her car unlocked, he felt partly responsible.

“I watch as carefully as I can,” he said. “Lately several persons have reported losses. We can’t seem to snare the thief.”

“After this, I’ll park my car elsewhere,” Mrs. Allison declared. “I’ll swim at the hotel beach too. I’ve heard others say that one can’t sea bathe here without running the risk of losing anything left loose on the beach. It’s true, apparently.”

Very annoyed by the loss of her purse, the woman climbed into her car and drove away.

Barney walked among the bathers, searching for a man in black trunks and brown sweat shirt.

“It’s no use,” he told Miss Gordon and the Brownies a little later. “Even if I found the fellow, I couldn’t accuse him, having no proof. But unless I can put an end to these thefts, the beach will lose all its customers.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mrs. Williams commented.

“No, but the management holds me responsible. I have an idea who may be breaking into the cars, but it’s only a theory. A wild one at that.”

“Is it anyone you know?” asked Connie, who had been listening hard.

“Some one I know very well,” replied the lifeguard. “I can’t convince myself that my suspicion could be true. And yet, Mrs. Allison’s remark about the black trunks and brown sweat shirt set me to thinking. Many bathers wear black trunks. But I know of only one hereabouts who has a brown sweat shirt.”

“Who is he?” demanded Vevi, fairly overcome by curiosity. Barney however, would not mention a name.

“I’m not sure that I have the right slant on the situation,” he replied. “It would be unfair and unwise to accuse anyone without absolute proof. What I must do is keep closer watch than ever of this beach.”

“The thief may over-step himself,” remarked Miss Gordon.

“The Brownies will help you watch the beach,” eagerly offered Vevi. “Jamie will too, won’t you?”

Now Barney Fulsom had forgotten that the little boy was standing close by. He turned quickly toward him as did all the Brownies. Everyone was surprised to see that the youngster appeared very disturbed.

“You’ll help, won’t you, Jamie?” Vevi repeated her question.

The boy stared at her a moment as if he had not heard.

“I—I won’t be here much longer,” he mumbled at last. “I’m going to run away. I’ve made up my mind!”

And with that, he turned and ran off down the beach.