CHAPTER VI

Most of the sun-warmed pebbles were too well rounded for skipping, but at last, as he searched lazily, Falcon discovered one that was large, flat, smooth. Supported by the crooking of his second finger, it was big enough to round out nicely the crescent formed by his forefinger and thumb. A jerk of his right arm sent the flat stone whirring over the yellow sand and the blue waters. One--two--three--four--he counted eighteen skips through the little ripples that hardly merited the name of waves. The bay was a hal…