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nydus/Swallows and AmazonsPublic

Four children camping on an island in the Lake District encounter adventures with tomboyish sisters who claim the island as their own.

Page 287 of 397
Table of Contents

XXIV

pulled in to the landing-place until they heard it scrunch on the beach.

They looked up to see a large policeman, in his shirtsleeves, pulling in his oars. He got up, balancing heavily, and stepped ashore. Then he picked up his coat, which was lying in the bows of his rowing boat, and walked straight up to the camp. He was very hot, and as he walked he struggled with his coat until at last he got out of it a big red handkerchief, with which he mopped his face. He looked down on the captain and the mate.

“Good morning,” said John politely.

“Morning,” said the big policeman. “Busy?”

“Yes, rather,” said John.

“Cooler work than rowing in this weather.”

“Have you come a long way?” asked Susan, who was wondering what she could give him to drink.

“Aye,” said the policeman, “I have. And what might you be doing here, is what I want to know.”

“This is our camp,” said John. “Won’t you sit down and rest yourself? I’m sorry we haven’t any beer, but there are one or two bananas still left on that tree.”

The policeman grunted and did not say “Thank you.” With another struggle he pulled a notebook and a pencil out of his coat.

“Name and address, please,” said the policeman.

“My name is John Walker,” said John. “This is our address.”

“Walker, John,” said the policeman, writing. He mopped his face again. “Address?”

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