"That's what we get for mixing with the delicatessen trade," commented Sheldon airily. "Pick 'em right or don't pick 'em at all—that's my slogan from now on."
When the quintet from Tate had donned their street clothes again, Sheldon having provided diversion in the bathhouses by snapping the bare bodies of the others with his stinging wet towel, they sallied forth upon the crowded beach in search of further adventure. Sheldon amused them for a while by pinning on a Tate Town Gas Inspector badge, filched from somewhere, and pretending to be the officially appointed inspector of bathing suits. He would stand off and measure the length of some innocent person's bathing suit, then gravely approach him and inform him that he was guilty of violating the Lakeport regulations. In nine cases out of ten the victim looked frightened and fled for his bathhouse amid the roars of Sheldon's companions. Harold, strangely enough, did not catch the humor in this. Sheldon's practical jokes all seemed to share the quality of being slightly cruel.
They adjourned to the merry-go-round and took several whirls. To the discomfiture of the carousel proprietor, Sheldon produced a brass ring two rides out of three and was given a free encircling every time as a reward. Till
