They passed the little girl in her dripping bathing suit and cap without a second glance. Of course, they would not know Carolyn May again; but she could not forget them so easily. The incident of the wrecked go-cart had been too exciting for her ever to forget it, she was sure. The chair rolled on, away from the line of bathing houses, leaving scarcely a mark upon the hard strand. Prince came racing back to his little mistress and stopped for a moment to make friends with these new people whom he had not observed before. The stern looking man relaxed sufficiently to drag his cane on the sand for the mongrel to jump at. The querulous voice of the woman in the chair was almost immediately raised in complaint: "Drive that dog away, George! He is wet, and if he shakes himself he will spoil my gown." The coloured man left the back of the chair to drive Prince away. The latter was all for play--and perhaps he noted a twinkle in the eye of the man, who continued to drag his cane. Prince barked and made a playful dive for the coloured man's shoes. "Ma soul an' body!" gasped the serving man. "Dat dawg'll sho' 'nuff eat me up!" "Oh, no, he won't!" cried Carolyn. "He's had his dinner. Prince, don't do that! Come here, Prince." The gentleman turned, then, to look at the child. He smiled as the mongrel returned to the side of his little mistress. "Who are you?" he asked. "Do you and your dog come from the sea?" "No, sir," said Carolyn. "We come from New York." "Well, well! Then this is not a little mermaid and her dog!" went on the man. "Oh, no, sir! I know what mermaids are. They have tails." "Well, your dog has a tail. At least, an apology for one," said the man, his eyes still twinkling. "It may be that he is a merdog." "Come away, George," said the woman. The coloured man promptly pushed on the chair; but the gentleman lingered, smiling at Carolyn. "Did I ever see you before?" he asked, curiously. "Oh, yes, sir!" Carolyn replied. "I thought there was something familiar about you--or your dog," he said whimsically. "Where did I have the pleasure of meeting you before, young lady?" "It wasn't a pleasure," returned the little girl frankly. "You smashed my pale lady's baby's go-cart." "What!" exclaimed the man, and a rising flush altered the expression of his grey face. "Are you _that_ child?" "Yes, sir. You gave me twenty dollars for my pale lady." "And who sent it back to me?" the man demanded sharply. "Indeed, I didn't, sir," said Carolyn May, rather startled by his sharp tone. "But it was returned, with an impudent note. 'Money cannot pay for everything.'" "I--I don't know anything about that," stammered the little girl. "I think maybe Mr. Laird is too proud to take money from anybody." "'Laird,' eh? So _that's_ the name, is it?" and the gentleman suddenly calmed himself. "Proud, indeed? Are you sure your friends are not planning to bring a shyster's suit against me?"