At a certain point on the road Barzilla stopped the pony to let Carolyn get down. She was going across the spur of the sandhill by the path on which Mr. Oly Littlefield had once come to grief. This was the nearer way to the cabin. For once Prince was content to trail at his mistress' heels. He had trotted all the way behind Barzilla's empty wagon, and Barzilla was in a hurry and had urged the pony. So Carolyn was the first to come in sight of the open beach. She could see the roof of the fisherman's shanty; but nearer--right under the bank where she stopped suddenly--two men sprawled. Carolyn could see them plainly. They had evidently been walking the beach and had thrown themselves down in this sheltered place to rest. She knew them both--René, the chauffeur, and the dark man whom Carolyn May so disliked. She squatted down in the sand, with a warning hand upon the back of Prince's neck. She had a feeling that she did not wish to let these men know that she was so near to them. CHAPTER XXVI COUSIN OLY'S ACCIDENT Carolyn May had no intention of eavesdropping. She was not that sort of little girl. If she listened on occasion to what her elders were saying, she had perfect confidence in her right to do so; for Mamma and Papa Cameron never indulged in those regrettable half-speeches and hints which so often serve to impress little folk with the very things that they are expected not to hear. If Carolyn's mother and father had anything private to discuss, they discussed it privately. In addition, if Carolyn May chanced to report what she might hear, it was done in no spirit of tale bearing. Even in the matter of telling her friend that she had seen his motor-car at the Corners, Carolyn had been perfectly innocent of guile. Here was the man she so disliked--not to say feared--and the chauffeur, again. She kept Prince quiet. After his long run behind the pony the dog was quite willing to go to sleep in the sand. Carolyn was tempted to go back by the path to the road, and so follow Barzilla Ball and Beppo around to the shore where the pound fishermen brought in the fish from the nets. The two men below her were talking. René said: "But I get nothing, Boss! I only run the risk of giving M'sieu offence and losing my job." "Get nothing?" ejaculated the dark man in evident anger. "I saw Calvin Cummings hand you a hundred dollars in crisp twenties when he and his friends left us at Sunrise Cove. What do you mean--get nothing?" "Ha! A hundred dol'?" cried the French Canadian excitedly. "And what is that compare' with what you make in that deal of the paper-pulp mills, Boss? Think you I do not understand what you are about? Ha! Cal Cummings and his crowd let you in on it on the ground floor, eh? You make the big money while me, René Miett, have to satisfy myself with the tip--is it not?"