"Back there in Bible times," said Barzilla, "they had to make that drove of pigs they tell about crazy to get 'em to run into the sea. But sheep'll jest naturally run into the sea, or into any old place, get an old bell-wether to lead 'em." This, while he was mending a break in his sheep pasture fence. Mrs. Cameron and Carolyn arrived safely at the landing with the ancient rig and Barzilla's plodding pony. Before the steamboat was half way across the Great Salt Pond Carolyn saw her father and the red-coated figure of Edna Price by his side. Carolyn and Prince fairly danced upon the stringpiece of the wharf in impatience at the steamer's deliberate approach. Mr. Oly Littlefield, in his starched linen suit, scowled at Carolyn and shook a threatening cane at Prince. "That dratted dog ought to be in the town pound," he declared. "Chawin' up people's laigs! Might jest as well turn a wild tagger loose in the c'mmunity, I swan!" "He's got his eye on you now, Oly," chuckled one of the idlers, as Prince turned that way. "I b'lieve I'd speak a little less upshus of the critter. I don't doubt he's got it in for you." The wooden-legged man drifted away from the dog's vicinity, viciously stabbing the wharf with his cane. But Prince and his little mistress paid very little attention just then to Captain Littlefield's crotchety cousin. The _Shinnecock_ bumped gently into the piles, then ground them harshly against her side as the mooring lines tightened. A bell jangled in the engineroom. The wheels ceased turning. "Oh, Car'lyn May!" Edna's voice came down from the upper deck so clearly that everybody on the dock heard--and most of them laughed. "Oh, Car'lyn May! Johnny O'Harrity's cat's got five kittens, only they drowned four of them in the wash tub; and that red-haired Sade Gompretz has sent you an all-day sucker." CHAPTER XXI CROSS CURRENTS Carolyn May had seen her friend and his wife, who had become interested in Baby Laird, on several occasions since they had first driven by the Ball place. They often came over to the West Side in a hotel carriage, and always stopped at the bottom of the lane where it debouched upon the public highway. Carolyn would usually spy them if she did not chance to be wheeling the baby that way; and if he was asleep or with his mother she would run down alone to speak with her friends. Even the woman unbent to Carolyn May--who could resist the little girl's sunny ways?--and she was openly interested in Baby Laird. "How is the little dear?" she would ask eagerly, if the baby was not to be seen on that particular occasion. "He reminds me so much of my own little one--years and years ago." The little girl felt there was something about the woman's own baby that was not to be talked about. Her husband looked very stern and never said a word about it. Perhaps, like Aunty Rose Kennedy's three little ones, this woman's baby had been too puny to grow up.