"Can't I ask just one more question?"

"What is it?" asked Russ, smiling.

"What makes the ocean so salty?" Vi asked this time. "I got some water on my hands and then I put my finger in my mouth and it tasted just like I'd put too much salt on my potatoes. What makes the ocean so salty?"

"I don't know," said Russ. "We'll ask Daddy when we go up. But come on, and let's build the bungalow. I'll be a pirate, and we'll play shipwreck and everything."

"I'll be a pirate, too," added Laddie. "I know a good riddle about a pirate, but I can't think of it now. Maybe I will after I've been a pirate for a while."

"We'll be pirates, too," said Vi.

"No, girls can't be," said Russ. "You can be our prisoners. Pirates always have prisoners."

"Prisoners? What's them?" asked Vi.

"They're what pirates have," explained Laddie. "I know, 'cause I saw some pictures of 'em in a book. Pirates always keep their prisoners shut up in a cave."

"I'm not going to be in a cave," said Rose. "I was in the sand house when it caved in, and I don't like it."

"But you get good things to eat," explained Russ. "Pirates always have to feed their prisoners good things to eat."

"Then I'll be one, 'cause I'm hungry," said Vi.

"So'll I," added Laddie. "I'll be a prisoner. I guess I'd rather be a prisoner than a pirate, Russ. You can be the pirate and get us all good things to eat."

"All right, I will. Now come on, we've got to get a lot more wood to make this pirate bungalow. Get all the wood you can."

"Why don't you get some?" asked Laddie, as he saw his brother sitting down on a pile of drift pieces that had already been gathered.



CHAPTER XI

GOING CRABBING

Russ Bunker looked up at his brother Laddie and smiled. Still he made no move toward helping gather the driftwood for the bungalow they were going to make.

"Well, why don't you help get wood?" asked Laddie again. "Think we're going to do all the work and have you sit there?"

"Say, I'm a pirate, ain't I?" asked Russ, not getting his words just right, though his brother and sisters understood what he meant. "Didn't you say I was to be the pirate?"

"Yes, 'cause we don't want to be," retorted Rose.

"Well, all right then, I'm going to be the pirate," went on Russ.

"But you've got to get us good things to eat," said Vi. "We're the prisoners, an' you said they had good things to eat."

"I'll get good things to eat if Cousin Ruth'll give 'em to me," promised Russ. "But I'm the pirate, and pirates don't ever work. They just boss the prisoners. Now come on, prisoners, and build me the bungalow!" and Russ leaned back on a pile of sea weed and looked very lazy and comfortable.

"Don't pirates ever work?" asked Laddie.

"Nope! Not the kind I ever heard Mother read about in books," went on Russ. "They just tell the prisoners what to do, 'ceptin', of course, when there's any fighting. Pirates are 'most always fighting, but we won't play that part, 'cause Mother doesn't like that. I'll be a good pirate, and I'll let you prisoners build the bungalow."

"But you've got to get us something to eat," said Vi again.

"I'll do that," promised Russ. "I'll go up now and ask Cousin Ruth for some, and you prisoners can be getting a lot of wood."

The plans Russ made came out all right. Cousin Tom's pretty young wife was very glad to give the children some crackers and cookies to take down on the beach to eat, and when Russ got back with the bag of good things he found that Rose, Laddie and Violet had collected a large pile of driftwood.

"Now we'll make the bungalow," decided Russ. "I'll help work at that, 'cause the pirates want it made just so. But you prisoners have got to help."

"Can't we eat first, 'fore we make the bungalow?" asked Violet. "I'm as hungry as anything!"

"Yes, I guess we could eat first. I'm hungry, too," returned the "pirate."

Then the "pirate" and his "prisoners" sat down on the sand together, as nicely as you please, leaning against bits of driftwood covered with seaweed, and ate the lunch Cousin Ruth had given them. It did not take very long. Probably you know what a very short time cookies last among four hungry children.

"Well, now we'll start to build," said Russ, when the last cookie and cracker had been eaten. "First we'll stick up four posts in the sand, one for each corner of the bungalow."

The children had made playhouses before, not only at their home in Pineville, but while they were at Grandma Bell's house, near Lake Sagatook, Maine; so they knew something of what they wanted to do.

Of course the bungalow was rather rough. It could not be otherwise with only rough driftwood with which to make it. But then it was just what the children wanted.

When the four posts were set deep in the sand, in holes dug with clam shells, the children placed boards from one to the other, sometimes making them fast, by driving in, with stones for hammers, the rusty nails which were found in some pieces of the wood. Other boards or planks they tied together with bits of string. Over the top they placed sticks, and on top of the sticks they spread seaweed.

"We don't want the roof very heavy," said Russ, "'cause then if it falls in on us, as our snow house roof did once, it won't hurt us. All we want is something to keep off the sun."

"Won't it keep the rain out, too?" asked Rose.

"No, I don't guess it will," answered Russ, as he looked up and saw several holes in the roof. "Anyhow we won't play out here when it rains. Mother wouldn't let us."

The pirate bungalow was soon finished; that is, finished as much as the children wanted it, and then they began playing in it. Russ pretended that he was the pirate, and that the others were his prisoners. He made them dig little holes in the sand, and bring in shells and stones as well as seaweed. This last he made believe was hay for a make-believe elephant.

"Do pirates have elephants?" asked Violet.

"Sometimes maybe they do," her brother said. "Anyhow I can make believe that just for fun."

"Are we going to eat any more?" asked Laddie. "Or is that only make-believe, too?"

"I'll see if I can get some more from Cousin Ruth," promised Russ. Once more he made a trip up to the real bungalow, and Cousin Ruth, with laughter, filled another bag with cookies. This time Margy and Mun Bun, tired of playing with the shells and pebbles, went down on the beach to the driftwood pirate bungalow.

It was rather a tight squeeze to get all six of the little Bunkers inside, and not have the place burst and fall apart. But they managed it, and then they sat under the seaweed roof and ate the cookies, having a fine time.

"My, this is cozy!" cried Cousin Tom, as, with Daddy Bunker, he came down to see what the children were doing. "And you've had something to eat, too!" he went on, as he saw some crumbs scattered about.

"Yes, we had some," said Russ, "but it's all gone now. But if you are hungry I can get some more," and he started from the bungalow.

"Oh, no!" laughed Daddy Bunker, who had been told by his wife of Russ' two visits to Cousin Ruth's kitchen. "I guess we don't feel hungry now. Anyhow dinner will soon be ready."

The children played in the pirate bungalow all the remainder of the day, stopping only for dinner and supper. The seaweed roof kept off the hot August sun, and, as it did not rain, the holes in the covering did not matter.

Rose and Violet took their dolls down and played with them there. Russ, after a while, gave up being a pirate, and said his "prisoners" could all go, but they seemed to like staying around the driftwood house.

"If we had a door on it we could stay in it all night," said Vi. "Why didn't you make a door, Russ?"

"Too hard work," he answered. "Anyhow we don't want to stay down here all night."

"The waves might come up and wash us away," said Rose.

Laddie, who had been smoothing the sand in one corner of the pirate bungalow, now stopped and seemed to be thinking hard.

"What's the matter?" asked Russ.

"I have a new riddle," was the answer. "It's about a door."

"Is it why does a door swing?" asked Violet. "'Cause if it is, I can answer that one. I've heard it before. A door swings because it isn't a hammock."

"Nope! 'Tisn't that," said Laddie. "This is my new riddle. What goes through a door, but never comes into the room?"

"Say it again," begged Russ, who had not been listening carefully.

"What goes through the door, but never comes into the room?" asked Laddie again. "It's a good riddle, and I made it up all myself."

"Does it go out of the room if it doesn't come in?" asked Rose.

"Nope," answered Laddie, shaking his head. "It doesn't do anything. It just goes through the door, but it doesn't come in or go out."

"Nothing can do that," declared Russ. "If a thing goes through the door it's got to come in or go out, else it doesn't go through."

"Oh, yes, it does," said Laddie. "Do you give up?"

"Is it a cat?" asked Vi.

"Nope."

"A dog?"

"Nope."

"A turtle?" guessed Mun Bun, who didn't quite know what it was all about, but who wanted to guess something.

"Nope!" said Laddie, laughing. "I'll tell you. It's the keyhole!"

"The keyhole?" cried Russ. "No!"

"To be sure!" answered his small brother. "Doesn't a keyhole go all the way through the door? If it didn't you couldn't get the key in. The keyhole goes through the door, but it doesn't come into the room nor go out. It just stays in the door. Isn't that a good riddle?"

"Yes, it is," answered Rose. "I'd never have guessed it."

"I thought it up all myself while you were talking about a door to this bungalow," said Laddie. "What goes through the door but doesn't come in the room? A keyhole," and he laughed at his own riddle.

The next day Cousin Tom went down to the beach, where once more Russ, Rose and the others were playing in the driftwood bungalow, and called:

"How many of you would like to go crabbing?"

"I would!" cried Russ.

"So would I," said Rose.

"What is it like?" asked Vi, who, you might know, would ask a question the first thing.

"Well, it's like fishing, only it isn't quite so hard for little folk," said Cousin Tom. "Come along, if you're through playing, and I'll show you how to go crabbing."

"Are Daddy and Mother going?" asked Rose.

"Yes, we'll all go. Come along."

The six little Bunkers followed Cousin Tom up the beach to the inlet. There, tied to a pier not far from Cousin Tom's bungalow, was a large boat. Near it stood Mother and Father Bunker and Cousin Ruth. Cousin Ruth had some peach baskets, two long-handled nets and some strings to the ends of which were tied chunks of meat.

"Are we going to feed a dog?" asked Russ.

"No, that is bait for the crabs," said Cousin Tom. "Come, now, get into the boat, and we'll go for a new kind of fishing."



CHAPTER XII

"THEY'RE LOOSE!"

"All aboard!" cried Russ as he stood on the edge of the little wharf in the inlet, at which the boat was tied. "All aboard."

"Does he mean we must all get a piece of board?" asked Violet.

"No," answered her mother with a smile. "Russ is saying what the sailors say when they want every one to get on the ship, take their places, and be ready for the start."

The rowboat was a large one, and would hold the six little Bunkers, as well as their daddy and mother and Cousin Tom.

Cousin Ruth had intended to go, but, at the last minute, the woman living in the next bungalow asked her to help with some sewing; so Cousin Ruth stayed at home.

"I'll get all ready to cook the crabs if you catch any," she said with a smile, as Cousin Tom and Daddy Bunker rowed the boat out into the inlet.

"Oh, we'll get some!" cried Russ.

"Crabs bite, don't they?" asked Violet, who seemed started on her questioning tricks.

"Well, they don't exactly bite; it's more of a pinch," said Cousin Tom. "But it hurts, I can tell you."

"Then I'm not going to catch any," declared Violet. "I'll just watch you."

"Oh, a crab won't pinch you if you catch him in a net; and that's what I'll do," said her cousin. "We'll soon be at the place where there are lots of them, I hope."

As Cousin Tom rowed along, he told the six little Bunkers that the crabs swam up the inlet from the sea to get things to eat, and also for the mother crab to lay eggs, so little crabs would hatch out.

"And when the big crabs swim up, which they do whenever the tide runs into the inlet, twice a day," said Cousin Tom, "we go out and catch them. Of course you can catch them at other times, but the crabbing is best when the tide is coming in."

"But I don't see any hooks on the lines," remarked Laddie, who was looking at the strings in the bottom of the boat. On one end of each string was a short piece of wood, and on the other end a piece of meat, while on a few were some fish heads.

"You don't need hooks to catch crabs," explained Cousin Tom. "All you need to do is to tie a piece of meat on the string."

"And does the crab bite that?" asked Russ.

"No, but he takes it in his strong claws, to hold it so he can tear off little pieces with his smaller claws and put them into his mouth," said Cousin Tom. "A crab's mouth is small, and he has to tear his food into little bits before he can swallow it. He uses his big front claws for grabbing hold of what he wants to eat and holding on to it, and he likes old meat or fish heads best of all.

"So, when we get to the place where I think some crabs are, we'll let down the pieces of meat. The crabs, swimming along, or crawling sideways on the bottom of the inlet, as they more often do, will smell the chunk of meat. They will take hold of it in their claws, and then one of us can reach down the net and scoop it under Mr. Crab. That's how we catch them."

"But how do you know when one has hold of the piece of meat on the string?" asked Rose.

"You can feel him giving it little jerks and tugs," said Cousin Tom. "Or, if the water is clear, you can see him as he takes hold of the chunk of meat. Then you want to pull up on your string, very, very gently, so as not to scare the crab and make him let go. If you know how to do it you can lift your string up with one hand, and scoop the net under the crab with the other. But when you children have a bite, your Daddy or I will use the net for you."

"Oh, it's going to be lots of fun," cried Violet. "I like this kind of fishing."

"And there aren't any sharp hooks to hurt the crab," added Rose.

"No, it doesn't hurt a crab to catch him this way," said Daddy Bunker. "And crabs are very good to eat after they are cooked. I like them better than fish."

"Is a crab a fish?" asked Laddie, who was holding a little stick down in the water, watching the ripples it made as the boat was rowed along.

"A crab is a sort of fish," said Cousin Tom. "Why did you ask?"

"Oh, I am trying to make up a riddle about a crab and a fish," said Laddie. "But I don't guess I can if they are pretty near the same. I guess I'll make up a riddle about a boat. I have one 'most thought up. It goes like this: When a boat goes in the water why doesn't the water go in the boat?"

"It does, sometimes, if the boat leaks," replied Cousin Tom with a laugh. "I hope your riddle doesn't come true this trip, Laddie!"

"Oh, well, I haven't got the riddle all made up yet," was the answer. "I can't think of a good answer. Maybe I can after I catch some crabs."

"Why doesn't our boat sink?" asked Violet.

"'Cause it's wood, and that floats," said Russ.

"Well, once you made a little wooden boat, and it sunk when we put a lot of stones on it," said Vi. "And my doll—a little one—was on the boat, and she got all wet."

"Well, if a boat is made of wood, an' it's big enough, it won't sink, will it, Daddy?" asked Russ.

"No, I don't believe it will, if it doesn't get a hole through it so the water can get in. But sit still now, children. I think we are at the place where Cousin Tom is going to let us catch crabs. Aren't we, Tom?" asked Mr. Bunker of his nephew.

"Yes," said Cousin Tom, "this is a good place. There is plenty of seaweed on the bottom of the inlet here, and the crabs like to hide in that—especially the soft-shelled crabs."

"Are there two kinds?" Russ inquired.

"Yes, hard and soft," was his cousin's answer.

"Like eggs," said Russ with a laugh. "There are hard and soft boiled eggs. Isn't that so, Cousin Tom?

"Yes," said Cousin Tom with a smile. "But the funny part of it is that sometimes the same crab is soft-shelled, and again it is hard-shelled. An egg can't be that way. Once it is boiled hard it never can be boiled soft again."

"What makes soft crabs?" Rose wanted to know.

"A soft-shelled crab is a hard-shelled crab with its old, hard shell off, and it is only soft while it is waiting for its new shell to harden in the salty sea water," explained Cousin Tom. "You see a crab grows, but its shell, or its house that it lives in, doesn't grow. So it has to shed that, or wiggle out of it, to let a larger one grow in its place. When it does that it is a soft-shelled crab for a time, and very good to eat. But you can't catch soft-shelled crabs on a string and a chunk of meat. You have to go along and scoop them out of the seaweed with a net. But now we will fish for hard-shelled crabs."

Cousin Tom and Daddy Bunker had rowed the boat about a mile up the inlet, and now the anchor was tossed over the side, to keep the craft from drifting with the tide.

"Now each one of you take a string, and toss the meat-end of it over the side," said Cousin Tom. "Keep hold of the stick-end, or tie that end to the boat. If you lose that you can't pull in your crab. Each one of you keep watch of his or her string. When you see it beginning to be pulled, or when you feel a little tug or jerk on it, as if a fish were nibbling, then pull up very slowly and carefully. And look as you pull. Don't pull it all the way to the top, or the crab, if there is one on it, will see you, let go, and swim away."

The six little Bunkers did as they were told. Of course Margy and Mun Bun were too little to know how to catch crabs, but they each had a line, and Mother Bunker said she would catch them for the small tots.

"Oh, I think I have one!" suddenly exclaimed Russ in a whisper. "Look at my line move!"

"Yes, you may have a crab on there," returned Cousin Tom. "Pull up very gently."

Russ did so, while his cousin reached forward with the long-handled net ready to scoop it under the crab, if it should happen to be one.

Up and up Russ pulled his line. Every one was eagerly watching, for they wanted to see the first crab caught. And then, as the chunk of meat on Russ's string came near the top of the water, Rose, from the other end of the boat, cried:

"Oh, it's only a piece of seaweed!"

And so it was! How disappointed Russ was! The bit of green seaweed, catching on his line, had wiggled and tugged, as the tide swayed it, just as a crab would have done.

"Oh, I have one! I have one!" suddenly called Laddie, from his end of the boat. "He's a big one! He's pulling like anything!"

"Well, don't get excited and fall overboard," said Daddy Bunker. "Keep still, pull up slowly, and I'll get him in the net for you."

Slowly Laddie pulled up. Every one was watching. Would his "bite," too, prove to be only seaweed?

"Yes, you have one!" said Mother Bunker in a low voice, so as not to frighten the crab. I don't really know whether loud noises frighten crabs or not, but generally every one keeps quiet when fishing.

"Yes, Laddie has a crab," said Daddy Bunker. "Wait, now, I'll get it in the net!"



Laddie's father dipped the net down into the water, shoved it under the crab, chunk of meat and all, and lifted it suddenly out of the water. The crab had hold of Laddie's bait in both claws, and before the creature could let go it had been caught.

"Oh, look at him wriggle!" cried Rose.

"Now I'll dump him into the basket," said Daddy Bunker. He turned the net upside down over the peach basket. Out dropped Mr. Crab, letting go of the chunk of meat, which Laddie pulled out by the string. The crab crawled about sideways on the bottom of the basket, raising its claws into the air and clashing them together, at the same time opening and shutting the pinching part.

"That's the way a crab fights," said Cousin Tom. "And sometimes two big crabs will fight so hard that one pulls a claw off the other. You have caught a fine, big one, Laddie."

"A dandy," agreed Laddie.

"And I've got one, too!" cried Vi. "Oh, he's pulling like anything!"

She really had a crab on her line. Cousin Tom netted it for her, and it turned out to be larger than Laddie's.

"I think the crab fishing will be good to-day," said Daddy Bunker.

And so it turned out. From then on each one began to catch the pinching creatures, the older folks using the net when the children had bites. Once Russ tried to use the net himself, but he was not quick enough with it, and the crab let go of the chunk of meat and swam quickly away.

"He was a dandy big one, too!" said Russ regretfully.

Mun Bun and Margy each one caught a crab, with the help of their mother, and Rose, Violet and Laddie had good luck, also. Cousin Tom and Daddy Bunker, of course, caught the most. Mother Bunker helped the children land theirs in the net. And, after about an hour of fishing, the peach basket was full of the big-clawed crabs.

"I think we have enough," said Cousin Tom. "We will take them home and cook them. Then we can eat them cold-boiled with lemon juice on them, or they can be made into a salad."

"Catching crabs is lots of fun," said Russ.

"Eating them is good, too," said his father.

They rowed back home, and found Cousin Ruth waiting for them at the bungalow.

"Oh, you did have good luck," said Cousin Tom's wife. "A whole basketful! Well, I'll soon have the water boiling and we'll cook them."

The basket full of live crabs was set in the kitchen, and the six little Bunkers and the others went out on the porch to rest and wait for the water to boil. Russ, a little later, wanted a drink, and, going into the kitchen, he turned to go to the sink. He was barefooted, and suddenly he felt a sharp pain on one toe.

"Oh, I'm bit! I'm bit!" he cried. "Something pinched me!"

And then, as he looked at the kitchen floor, he cried:

"Oh, come quick! Come quick! They're loose! They're all loose!"



CHAPTER XIII

IN THE BOAT

Every one out on the porch of the bungalow jumped up on hearing Russ's cries.

"What's the matter?" asked Mother Bunker.

"What happened?" Daddy Bunker wanted to know.

"Oh, they're all loose, and one of 'em bit me," wailed Russ, and now came sounds which seemed to indicate that he was hopping about on one foot, and holding the other in his hands. And he really was doing this, as they found out afterward.

"Loose? They're all loose? What does he mean?" asked Rose.

"It's the crabs!" exclaimed Cousin Tom, as he made a run for the kitchen. "I guess some of them got out of the basket. They will do that once in a while."

Daddy and Mother Bunker, with Cousin Ruth, followed Cousin Tom to the kitchen, where Russ was still hopping about and yelling:

"Oh, they're all loose! They're all loose, and one of 'em pinched me! Oh, dear!"

"Don't cry, silly little boy!" called his mother. "A pinch by a crab can't hurt as much as that."

"Oh, but it hurts like anything!" yelled Russ. "He 'most bit off my big toe!"

By this time they were all in the kitchen. The rest of the six little Bunkers had followed their father and mother. They saw a queer sight.

Crabs were crawling all over the floor. They had managed to wiggle out of the peach basket in which they had been put as they were caught from the boat. Cousin Tom had spread wet seaweed over the top of the basket, but this had not been enough to keep the crabs in.

"Look, they're chasing us!" cried Rose, as a crab came sliding sideways over the oil-cloth, clashing its big claws.

"They are only trying to get into the dark corners to hide," said Cousin Tom. "I'll pick them up."

"Will they pinch you?" asked Laddie.

"No, not if I pick them up by one of their back flippers," said his cousin. "There is a certain way to pick up a crab so he can't reach you with his claws."

Just then a crab came toward Cousin Tom. He put out his foot, and held it tightly on the hard shell of the crab's back. Then, reaching behind the crab, and taking hold of one of the broad, flat swimming flippers, he lifted the crab up that way. The crab wiggled and tried to reach Cousin Tom with the pinching claws, but could not.

"That's the way to do it," called out Cousin Tom, as he tossed the crab into the basket.

"I can do it!" said Laddie, who liked to try new things.

"You'd better not," advised his mother. "Look how the crab pinched Russ."

"My toe's bleeding," said the little fellow, and so it was. A big crab can easily pinch hard enough to draw blood.

"I'll tie it up for you," said his mother. "Perhaps you children had better not try to pick up Crabs the way Cousin Tom did," she went on. "You might make a mistake and get badly pinched."

"Yes, let the children keep out of the way," agreed Daddy Bunker. "Cousin Tom and I will catch the crabs."

Russ was led away, hopping on one foot, though if he had tried, he could easily have stepped on his sore foot. He was more frightened than hurt, I think. And then the other children followed him, though the twins would rather have staid.

It was not easy to catch the crabs, for there were so many of them, and they scurried around so fast. But Cousin Tom picked them up in his fingers, and Daddy Bunker soon learned the trick of this. As for Cousin Ruth, she took the crab tongs, which were two pieces of wood fastened together on one end, like a pair of fire tongs. In these the crabs could be picked up either front or back, or even by one claw, and they could only pinch the wood, which they often did.

"There, I think we have them all," said Cousin Tom at last. "And now, as the water is boiling, we can cook them."

So the crabs were cooked, and set aside to cool until morning, when the white meat would be picked out of the red shells, and made into salad.

"What makes the crabs red?" asked Violet the next morning as she saw the pile of cold, boiled creatures. "They were a sort of brown and green color when we caught them yesterday."

"Yes," said her father, "crabs, lobsters and shrimps, when they are boiled, turn red. Just why this is I don't know. I suppose there is something in their shells that the hot water changes."

"Can they pinch my toe now?" asked Mun Bun, as he stood near his mother, looking at the basket full of cooked crabs.

"Nope! They can't hurt you now; they're cooked," Laddie replied. "I'm not 'fraid!" and he picked up a big crab, holding it by one of the claws.

Vi then did the same thing.

"Go ahead and take one, Mun Bun," urged Laddie.

"No! I don't guess I want to," said the little fellow.

"I know a riddle you could make up about a crab," said Rose, who had come to the kitchen to watch Cousin Ruth clean the shellfish.

"What is it?" Laddie demanded instantly.

"What color is a crab when it can't pinch?" sing-songed Rose. "And the answer is it's red when it can't pinch."

"Yes, that is a pretty good riddle," said Laddie, as, with his head on one side, he thought it over. "But I know how to make it better," he went on.

"How?" asked his mother.

"Let me think a minute," he begged. "Oh, I have it! Why is a crab like a newspaper?"

"'Tisn't!" exclaimed Russ who came along just then. He was limping a bit, for his toe was sore where the crab had pinched him.

"Yes, 'tis!" declared Laddie. "That's the riddle. It's something like the one Rose told. Why is a crab like a newspaper?"

"'Cause it folds its claws when it doesn't want to bite you?" asked Violet.

"Nope!"

"Tell us," suggested Russ.

"Well, a crab is like a newspaper, 'cause when it's red it can't bite or pinch," Laddie said. "See?"

"Huh! Yes, I see," murmured Russ. "A crab is like a newspaper because when it's red. Oh, I know! You mean when a newspaper is r-e-a-d. That's a different red from reading. But it's a good riddle all right, Laddie."

"I didn't think of it all," said the little boy. "Rose helped."

"Oh, well, you made a riddle out of it," his sister told him. "Here comes Cousin Ruth. I'm going to watch her clean the crabs."

It was quite a lot of work to take the sweet, white meat out of the crab-shells, but Cousin Ruth knew the best way to do it.

In about an hour she had a large bowl full of the picked-out meat, and the children—all except Mun Bun and Margy, who were too little to be allowed to eat any—said the crabs were better than fish. Daddy and Mother Bunker liked them, too.

"Some of the crabs have awful big claws," remarked Russ after dinner, as he looked at a pile of the legs and claws. "I guess they could dig in the sand with 'em, the crabs could. They could dig deep holes."

"I wish one would dig down and find my lost locket," said Rose with a sorrowful sigh.

For, though they had all searched the sand near the bungalow beach over and over, there was no sign of the missing gold locket.

"I guess we'll never find it," Rose went on with another sigh. "Not even if a crab could dig down deep."

"Well, I'll dig some more," promised Laddie. "Vi and I are going to make some holes in the sand to play a new game, and maybe we'll find your locket that way."

But they did not, and Rose, though she herself searched and dug in many places, could not find the ornament.

There were many happy August days for the six little Bunkers at Cousin Tom's. They played in the sand, went crabbing and fishing, wading and swimming.

One hot afternoon, when it was too warm to do more than sit in the shade, Mrs. Bunker, who had been lying on the porch in a hammock reading, laid aside her book and looked up.

"Where has Mun Bun gone?" she asked Rose, who was playing jackstones near by. "And did Margy go with him?"

"I don't know, Mother," Rose answered. "They were here a minute ago. I'll go and look for them."

Just as Rose got up and as Mrs. Bunker arose from the hammock, a voice down near the shore of the inlet called:

"Come back. Get out of that boat! Mother, Margy and Mun Bun are in the boat, and it's loose, and they're riding down the inlet and the tide's going out! Oh, Mother, hurry!"



CHAPTER XIV

VIOLET'S DOLL

You can easily believe that Mrs. Bunker did hurry on hearing what Russ was calling about Mun Bun and Margy. She almost fell out of the hammock, did Mrs. Bunker, she was in such haste.

"Daddy! Daddy! Come quick!" she called to her husband, who was in the bungalow, talking to Cousin Tom. "Margy and Mun Bun are in a boat on the inlet and are being carried out to sea. Hurry!"

Daddy Bunker also hurried.

Mother Bunker was the first to get down to the shore, where she could see what had happened.

At first all she noticed was Russ jumping up and down in his excitement, and, at the same time, pointing to something on the water. Mrs. Bunker looked at what Russ was pointing to and saw that it was Cousin Tom's smaller rowboat, and, also, that in it were her two little children, Mun Bun and Margy!

And the boat was being carried by the tide down the inlet toward the sea. The inlet, when the tide was flowing in or out, was like a powerful river, more powerful in its current than Rainbow River at home in Pineville, where the six little Bunkers lived.

"Oh, Margy! Mun Bun!" cried Mrs. Bunker, holding out her hands to the children.

"Oh, what will happen to them?" went on Mother Bunker, as she reached Russ standing near the edge of the inlet. She could see the boat, with Margy and Mun Bun in it, drifting farther and farther away. "Oh, I must get them!"

Mrs. Bunker was just about to rush into the water, all dressed as she was. She had an idea she might wade out and get hold of the boat to bring it back. But the inlet was too deep for that.

"Wait a minute! Don't go into the water, Mother! We'll get the children back all right!" cried Daddy Bunker, as he ran up beside his wife and caught her by the arm.

"How?" asked Mrs. Bunker, clinging to her husband.

"We'll go after them in another boat," said Mr. Bunker. "Here comes Cousin Tom. He and I will go after the children in the other boat. You sit down and wait for us. We'll soon have them back!"

Cousin Tom had two boats tied at the pier in the inlet. One was the large one in which they had gone crabbing a few days before, and the other was the small one in which Margy and Mun Bun had gone drifting away.

Daddy Bunker, left his wife sitting on the sand and ran to loosen the large boat. But Cousin Tom cried:

"Don't take that. It will be too slow and too heavy to row."

"What shall we take?" asked the children's father.

"Here comes a motor-boat. I'll hail the man in that and ask him to go after the drifting boat for us," Cousin Tom answered.

"All right," agreed Mr. Bunker, as he looked up and saw coming down the inlet, or Clam River, a speedy motor-boat, in which sat a man. This would be much faster than a rowboat.

Just then Mrs. Bunker, who had jumped up from the sand where she had been sitting for a moment, and who was running toward her husband, cried:

"Oh, see! The children are standing up! Oh, if they should fall overboard!"

Margy and Mun Bun, who, at first, had been sitting down in the drifting boat, were now seen to be standing up. And it is always dangerous to stand up in a small boat.

Daddy Bunker put his hands to his mouth, to make a sort of megaphone, and called:

"Sit down, Margy! Sit down, Mun Bun! Sit down and keep quiet and Daddy will soon come for you. Sit down and keep still!"

Mun Bun and his little sister did as their father told them, and sat down in the middle of the boat.

"Now we'll get them all right," said Mr. Bunker to his wife. "Don't worry—they will be all right."

Cousin Tom ran out on the end of his pier. He waved his hands to the man in the motor-boat, who was a lobster fisherman, going out to "lift" his pots.

"Wait a minute!" called Cousin Tom. "Two children are adrift in that boat. We want to go after them!"

The lobster fisherman waved his hand to show that he understood. The motor of his boat was making such a noise that he could not make his voice heard, nor could he tell what Cousin Tom was saying. But he knew what was meant, for he saw the drifting boat.

With another wave of his hand to show that he knew what was wanted of him, the lobsterman steered his boat toward Cousin Tom's wharf. A few minutes later Daddy Bunker and Cousin Tom were in it, and were speeding down Clam River after the drifting craft in which sat Margy and Mun Bun.

"How did it happen?" asked Mr. Oscar Burnett, the lobster fisherman, as he steered his boat down stream.

"I don't know," answered Daddy Bunker "All I know is my wife called to me to come out, and I saw the two tots drifting off in the boat."

"They must have climbed in to play when the boat was tied to the wharf," said Cousin Tom. "Then either they or some one else must have loosened the rope."

"Maybe it came loose of itself," suggested Daddy Bunker.

"It couldn't," said Cousin Tom. "I tied it myself, and I am a good enough sailor to know how to tie a boat so it won't work loose."

"Yes, I guess you are," said Mr. Burnett. "The youngsters must have loosened the rope themselves. Or some older children did it, for those two are pretty small," and he looked at Margy and Mun Bun, for the motor-boat was now quite near the drifting rowboat.

"All right, Margy! All right, Mun Bun! We'll soon have you back safe!" called Daddy Bunker to them, waving his hands. Both children were crying.

Up alongside the drifting rowboat went the lobster craft. Cousin Tom caught hold of the boat in which the children sat, and held it while Daddy Bunker lifted out Margy and her brother.

Then the rowboat was tied fast to the stern of the other boat, which was steered around by Mr. Burnett, and headed up the inlet.

"I've got time to take you back to your pier," he said to Cousin Tom. "I started out a bit early this morning, so I don't have to hurry. Besides, the tide is running pretty strong, and you'd have it a bit hard rowing back."

"It's a good thing you came along," said Daddy Bunker, as he thanked the lobsterman. "The children might have been carried out to sea."

"Oh, the life guard at the station on the beach would have seen them in time," returned Mr. Burnett. "But I'm just as glad we got them when we did."

"What made you go off in the boat?" asked Daddy Bunker of Margy.

"We didn't mean to," answered Mun Bun. "We got in to play sail, and the boat went off by itself."

And this was about all the two children could say as to what had happened. They had got into the boat, which was tied to the pier, and had been playing in it for some time. Then, before they knew it, the boat became loose, and drifted off. Russ, who had been playing on the beach not far away, had seen them, but not in time to help them.

He had, indeed, called to them to "come out of the boat," but then it was too late for Margy and Mun Bun to do this. There was already some water between their boat and the pier. Then Russ did the next best thing; he called his mother.

It did not take long for the lobster motor-boat to make the run back to Cousin Tom's pier, pulling the empty rowboat behind. Mrs. Bunker rushed down and hugged Margy and Mun Bun in her arms.

"Oh, I thought I should never see you again!" she cried, and there were tears in her eyes.

"We didn't mean to go away in the boat," said Margy.

"We didn't mean to," repeated Mun Bun.

And of course the children did not. They had been playing in the boat as it was tied to the wharf, and they never thought it would get loose. Just how this happened was never found out. Perhaps Mun Bun or Margy might have pulled at the knot in the rope until they loosened it, and the tug of the tide did the rest.

But the children were soon safe on the beach again, playing in the sand, and the alarm was over.

"What makes the water in the inlet run up sometimes and down other times?" asked Violet.

"It's the tide," said Russ, who had heard some fishermen talking about high and low water.

"What's the tide?" went on the little girl.

"The moon," added Russ. "I heard Mother read a story, and it said the moon makes the tides."

"Does it, Daddy?" persisted Violet. She certainly had her questioning cap on that evening.

"Yes, the moon causes the tides," said Daddy Bunker. "But just how, it is a bit hard to tell to such little children. The moon pulls on the water in the oceans, just as a magnet pulls on a piece of iron or steel. When the moon is on one side of the earth it pulls the water into a sort of bunch, or hill, there, and that makes it lower in the opposite part of the earth. That is low tide. Then, as the moon changes, it pulls the water up in the place where it was low before, and that makes high tide. And when the tide is high in our ocean here it pushes a lot of water up Clam River. And when the water is low in our ocean here the water runs out of Clam River. That is what makes high tide and low tide here."

"Oh," said Violet, though I am not sure she understood all about it.

But after that Margy and Mun Bun were careful about getting into the boat, even when they felt sure it was tightly tied to the pier. They always waited until some older folks were with them, and this was the best way.

The happy days passed at Cousin Tom's. The six little Bunkers played on the beach, and, now and then, they looked and dug holes to try to find Rose's locket.

"I guess it's gone forever," said the little girl as the days passed and no locket appeared. And she never even dreamed of the strange way good luck was to come to her once more.

One warm day, when all the children were playing down on the sandy shore of the inlet, Violet came running back to the house.

"Mother, make Russ stop!" she cried.

"What is he doing?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"He's taking my doll. He's going to take her out on the ocean in a boat. Make him stop."

"Oh, Russ mustn't do that!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker. "Of course I'll make him stop!"

She went down to the beach with Violet, and, just as they came within sight of the group of children, they heard Rose say:

"Oh, Russ! Now you've done it! You have drowned Vi's doll!"



CHAPTER XV

THE BOX ON THE BEACH

"Dear me!" exclaimed the children's mother, as she hurried along beside Violet to help settle whatever trouble Russ had caused.

"Oh! did you hear what Rose said?" asked Vi. "Did you hear?"

"Yes, my dear, I did."

"Oh, my lovely doll is drowned!" cried the little girl, and there were real tears in her eyes, and some even ran down her nose and splashed to the ground. "I just knew Russ would be mean and tease me, and he did, and now my doll is drowned and——"

"Well, it might better be a doll that is drowned and not one of my six little Bunkers," said the mother. "Though, of course, I am sorry if any of your playthings are lost. Russ, did you drown Vi's doll?" she called to her oldest son.

"I didn't mean to, Mother," was the answer. "I was giving the doll a ride in a boat I made, and the boat got blown by the wind, and the wind upset the boat, and the boat went under water, 'cause I had a cargo of stones on it, and——"

"What happened to Vi's doll?" asked Mother Bunker. "Why don't you get to that part of it, Russ?"

"I was going to," he said. "The doll fell off when the boat upset and sank, and the doll sank, too, I guess."

"Is my doll really, really, drowned?" cried Violet.

"I—I'm afraid I guess so," stammered Russ. "But maybe I can fish her up again when the tide is low," he added hopefully.

"Do it now," sobbed the little girl.

"The water's too deep now."

"Where did she get drowned?" asked Violet, gazing through her tears at the waters of the inlet.

"The boat upset out there in the middle," said Russ, pointing.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Violet. "If she was my rubber doll maybe she wouldn't be drowned. But she's my china doll, and they won't float, will they, Mother?"

"No, my dear, I'm afraid not. How did it happen, Russ? Why did you take Violet's doll?"

"'Cause I wanted to give her a ride, and I didn't think she would care—I mean Vi. Course the doll didn't care."

"She did so!" exclaimed the little girl, stamping her foot on the sand. "My dolls have got feelings, same as you have, Russ Bunker, so there!"

"Now children, don't get excited," said Mrs. Bunker gently. "Russ, you shouldn't have taken Vi's doll."

"Well, I wanted to see how much my boat would hold, and I was playing the doll was a passenger. I'll get it back for her. Cousin Tom will take me out in his boat to the middle, and I can scoop the doll up with a crab net."

Mrs. Bunker went with Russ and Violet to find Cousin Tom, leaving Laddie, Rose, Margy and Mun Bun playing with pebbles and shells in the sand.

Russ told Cousin Tom what had happened. The little boy had made a boat out of a piece of board, with a mast and a bit of cloth for a sail. He had loaded his boat with stones he had picked up on the beach of the inlet, and had started his craft off on a voyage.

Violet had been playing near by with her doll, and when she put it down for a moment Russ had taken the doll and put it on his toy boat.

Then he gave it a shove out into the Clam River, the wind blowing on the sail and sending his toy well out toward the middle of the inlet. There the accident happened. The boat turned over and sank. Perhaps if Russ had only laid the stones on, instead of tying one or two large ones fast, as he had, the boat might have floated, even though upset.

For if the stones had not been tied on they would have rolled off and the boat would have righted herself and floated, being made of wood. But, as it was, she sank.

"And my doll went down with it," said Vi sadly. "Please, Cousin Tom, can you get her back?"

"I don't know, Violet. I'll see," was the answer. "The tide is running out now, for it was high water a little while ago. If the boat sank down to the bottom, and stayed there, we may be able to get it when the water is low if we can see it."

"The sail is white, and you can see white cloth even under water," said Russ.

"But I'm afraid the cloth won't stay white very long. The mud and sand of the inlet will cover it," remarked Cousin Tom. "Did you tie the doll on the boat, too, Russ?"

"No, I just laid the doll down on top of the stones."

"Then when the boat upset the doll rolled off, and she probably sank in another place," said Mr. Bunker. "I don't believe we can ever find her, Vi, I'm sorry to say, but I'll try at low tide."

"Would she be carried out to sea, like Mun Bun and Margy 'most was?" the little girl wanted to know.

"She might, if the tide current was strong enough," said Cousin Tom. "What kind of doll was she?"

"China," answered Vi. "She was hollow, 'cause she made a hollow sound when you tapped her. And she had a hole in her back, and sometimes I used to pour milk in there, and make believe feed her."

"Well, if your doll was hollow, and had a hole in her back, she probably filled with water when she sank," said Cousin Tom.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Violet.

That evening, when the tide was low, so there was not so much water in the inlet, Cousin Tom and Daddy Bunker, taking Russ with them to show where his boat had upset, rowed out to the middle of Clam River. It took them a little while to find the place where Russ had last seen his toy boat, but finally they found it. Then, looking down into the water, they peered about for a sight of the white sail.

"There it is!" suddenly cried Russ, as he leaned over the side of the boat. "I see something white."

"Yes, I see it, too," said Daddy Bunker. "Perhaps that is the sail of the sunken toy boat, and perhaps the doll is near here."

But when Cousin Tom put down the long-handled crab net and scooped up the white object, it was found to be a bit of paper.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Russ. "I wish it was Vi's doll!" He felt bad about the sorrow he had caused his little sister.

"We'll try again," said his father, and, after rowing about a bit and peering down into the water, they saw something else white, and this time it really was Russ's boat. Cousin Tom scooped it up in his crab net, and when the stones which were tied on deck, were loosed, the boat floated as well as ever, and the wind and sun soon dried the wet sail.

But, though they scooped with crab nets all about the place where they had found the boat, they could not bring up Vi's doll.

"Oh, didn't you find her?" asked the little girl, when her father, Cousin Tom, and Russ came back in the rowboat.

"No, dear, we couldn't find her," said Daddy Bunker.

"Oh, dear!" and Vi cried very hard.

"Never mind, I'll get you another doll," said her mother.

"They won't ever a doll be as nice as she was," sobbed Vi. "I—I just lo-lo-loved her!"

They all felt sorry for Violet, and Russ said she could have his new knife, if she wanted it. But she said she didn't; all she wanted was her doll.

"Never mind," said Rose, trying to comfort her sister. "Maybe when I find my gold locket, if I ever do, you'll find your lost doll. We've got two things to hunt for now—your doll and my locket."

"But your locket is lost on land, and, maybe, if you dig in the sand enough, you can find it," sobbed Violet. "But you can't dig in the water!"

"Maybe she'll be washed up on the beach with the tide, same as the driftwood and the shells and the seaweed are washed up," put in Russ. "I'll look along the beach every day, Vi, and maybe I'll find your doll for you."

This comforted Vi some, and she dried her tears. Then Laddie made them all laugh by saying:

"I have a new riddle!"

"Is it about a doll?" asked Rose.

"No. It's about a cow."

"How can you make a riddle about a cow?" Russ demanded.

"Well, I didn't make this one up," said Laddie; "and it isn't like the riddles I like to ask, 'cause there isn't any answer to it."

"There must be some answer," declared Violet. "All riddles have answers."

"Well, I'll tell you this one, and you can see if it has," went on Laddie. "Now listen, everybody."

Then he slowly said:

"How is it that a red cow can eat green grass and give white milk that makes yellow butter?"

No one answered for a moment, and then Daddy Bunker laughed.

"That is pretty good," he said, "and I don't believe there is any answer to it. Of course we all know a red cow, or one that is a sort of brownish red, does eat green grass. And the milk a cow gives is white and the butter made from the white milk is yellow. Of course that isn't exactly a riddle, but it's pretty good, Laddie."

"And is there an answer to it?" the little boy asked.

"I don't believe there is," answered his father. "It's just one of those things that happen. Did you make that up, Laddie?"

"No. Cousin Tom told it to me out of a book. But I like it."

Vi still sorrowed for her doll, and, in the days that followed, she often walked along the beach hoping "Sarah Janet," as she called her, might be cast up by the tide or the waves. Russ looked also, as did the others, but no doll was found. Nor did Rose find her gold locket, though many holes were dug in the sand searching for it.

One morning, after breakfast, when he had gone down on the beach to watch the fishing boats come in, which he often did, Russ came running back to the house, very much excited.

"What's the matter?" asked his mother. "Did one of the boats upset and spill out the fishermen?"

"No'm, Mother. But a box washed up on shore, and it's nailed shut, and it's heavy, and maybe Vi's doll is in it! Oh, please come down and see the box on the beach!"



CHAPTER XVI

CAUGHT BY THE TIDE

Ever since they had come to Cousin Tom's, at Seaview, the six little Bunkers had hoped to find some treasure-trove on the beach. That is, Russ and Rose and Vi and Laddie did. Margy and Mun Bun were almost too little to understand what the others meant by "treasure," but they liked to go along the sand looking for things.

At first, when the children came to the shore, they had hoped to dig up gold, as Sammie Brown had said his father had when shipwrecked. But a week or so of making holes in the sand, and finding nothing more than pretty shells or pebbles, had about cured the older children of hoping to find a fortune.

"Instead of finding any gold we lost some," said Rose, as she thought of her pretty locket, which, she feared, was gone forever.

But now, when Russ came running in, telling about a big box being cast up on the beach, his mother did not know what to think. The children had heard her read stories about shipwrecked persons, who found things to eat, and things of value, cast up on the sands, and she knew Russ must imagine this was something like that.

"Hurry, Mother, and we'll see what it is!" cried the little boy, and taking hold of her hand he fairly dragged Mrs. Bunker along the path toward the beach.

"What sort of box is it?" the little boy's mother asked.

"Oh, it's a wooden box," Russ answered eagerly.

"Well, I didn't suppose it was tin or pasteboard," said Mrs. Bunker with a laugh. "A tin box would sink, and a pasteboard box would melt away in the water. Of course I know it must be of wood. But is it closed or open, and what is in it?"

"That's what we don't know, Mother," Russ answered. "The box has a cover nailed on it, and it isn't so very big—about so high," and Russ measured with his hands.

"Did you open the box?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"No'm," Russ answered. "We were all playing on the sand when I saw something bobbing up and down on the waves. We threw stones at it, and then it washed up on the beach, and I ran down into the water and grabbed it.

"Maybe it's gold in it, Laddie says," went on Russ. "But I told him it wasn't heavy enough for gold."

"No, I hardly think it will be gold," said his mother with a smile.

"And Vi thinks maybe it's her doll," went on the little boy.

"Oh, it hardly could be that. Her doll is probably at the bottom of the ocean by this time. It could hardly have been got up and put in a box. I'm afraid you will find nothing more than straw or shavings in your treasure-trove, Russ. Don't count too much on it."

"Oh, no, but we're just hoping it's something nice," Russ said. "You go on down where the box is and I'll go get a hammer from Cousin Tom so we can open the box."

He led his mother to a little hummock of sand, from the top of which she could look down and see the children gathered on the beach about a square wooden box that had been cast up by the sea. Then Russ ran back to get the hammer.

Mrs. Bunker looked at the box. There seemed to have been some writing on a piece of paper that was tacked on the box, but the writing was blurred by the sea water and could not be read.

"Oh, Mother! what you s'pose is in it?" asked Vi. "My doll, maybe!"

"No, I hardly think so, little girl."

"Maybe gold," added Laddie, his eyes big with excitement.

"No, and not gold," said Mrs. Bunker.

"Candy?" asked Margy, who had not one sweet tooth, it seemed, but several.

"Pop-corn balls!" said Mun Bun.

"Huh! candy and pop-corn balls would all be wet in the ocean," exclaimed Laddie.

By this time Russ came running back with the hammer. Behind him came Cousin Tom, Cousin Ruth and Daddy Bunker.

"What's all this I hear about a million dollars being found in a box on the beach?" asked Daddy Bunker with a laugh.

"Well, there's the box," said Russ, pointing. "Please open it."

"I wonder what can be in it," said Cousin Ruth.

"Oh, maybe nothing," replied her husband, who did not want the children to be too much disappointed if the box should be opened and found to hold nothing more than some straw or shavings for packing.

"Lots of boxes that are cast up on the beach have nothing in them," said Cousin Tom, as Daddy Bunker got ready to use the hammer on the one Russ and the others had found.

"There is something in this box, all right," said Daddy Bunker, as he lifted one end. "I don't believe this box is empty, though what is in it may turn out to be of no use. But we will open it and see."

The six little Bunkers crowded around to look. So did Mother Bunker and Cousin Tom and his wife. And then a very disappointing thing happened. All of a sudden a wave, bigger than any of the others that had been rolling up on the beach, broke right in front of the box resting on the sand. Up the shore rushed the salty, green water.

"Look out!" cried Mother Bunker. "We'll all be wet!"

Daddy Bunker, not wishing to have his shoes soiled with the brine, jumped back. So did the others. And, in jumping back, Mr. Bunker let go his hold on the box, which he was just going to open with Cousin Tom's hammer. And the big wave, which was part of the rising tide, just lifted the box up, and the next moment carried it out into the ocean, far from shore, as the wave itself ran back down the hill of sand.

"Oh! Oh, dear!" cried Rose.

"Grab it!" yelled Russ.

"I'll get it!" exclaimed Laddie.

He made a rush to get hold of the box again before it should be washed too far out from shore, but he stumbled over a pile of sand and fell. He was not hurt, but when he got up the box was farther out than ever.

Daddy Bunker looked at the water between him and the box, and said:

"It's too deep to wade and spoil a pair of shoes. And, after all, maybe there is only a lot of old trash in the box."

"Oh, I thought maybe my doll was in it," sighed Violet.

"Can't you take your boat, Tom, and row out and get the box?" asked Cousin Ruth.

"Yes, I could do that," he said. "I will, too! The water is calm, though I can't tell how long it will stay so."

But before Cousin Tom could go back to the pier in the inlet, where the boat was tied, the box was washed quite a distance out from shore. Then the wind sprang up and the sea became rough, and it was decided that he had better not try it.

"Let the box go," said Daddy Bunker. "I guess there was nothing very much in it."

But the children thought differently. They stood looking out at the unopened box, now drifting to sea, and thought of the different things that might be in it. Each one had an idea of some toy he or she liked best.

"Well, we waited too long about opening it," said Mr. Bunker. "We should have pulled the box farther up on the beach, Russ."

"That's right," said Cousin Tom. "The tides are getting high now, as fall is coming on, and the tides are always highest in the spring and the autumn. But maybe we can get the box back, after all."

"How?" asked Russ eagerly.

"Well, it may come ashore again, farther up the beach," replied Cousin Tom.

"Then somebody else may find it and open it," Russ remarked.

"Yes, that may happen," said his father. "Well, we won't worry over it. We didn't lose anything, for we never really had it."

But, just the same, the six little Bunkers could not help feeling sorry for themselves at not having seen what was in the box. They kept wondering and wondering what it could have been.

But a day or so later they had nearly forgotten about what might have been a treasure, for they found many other things to do.

One afternoon Margy and Mun Bun, who had been freshly washed and combed, went down to the wharf where Cousin Tom kept his boat.

"Don't get in it, though," warned their mother. "You were carried away in a boat once, and I don't want it to happen again. Keep away from the boats."

"We will!" promised Mun Bun and Margy.

When they reached the shore of the inlet Mun Bun said:

"Oh, Margy, look how low the water is! We can wade over to that little island!"

"Yes," agreed Margy, "we can. We can take off our shoes an' stockin's, an' carry 'em. Mother didn't tell us not to go wadin'."

And Mrs. Bunker had not, for she did not think the children would do this. So Margy and Mun Bun sat down on the wharf and made themselves barefooted. Then they started to wade across a shallow place in the inlet to where a little island of sand showed in the middle. And Margy and Mun Bun did not know what was going to happen to them, or they never would have done this.



CHAPTER XVII

MAROONED

"That's a nice little island over there," said Mun Bun to Margy as they waded along.

"Yes, it's a terrible nice little island," agreed his sister.

"An' we can camp out there an' have lots of fun."

"Oh, Mun Bun, catch me! I'm sinking down in a hole!"

"All right, I'll get you!" cried the little boy, and he grasped hold of his sister's arm. She had stepped into a little sandy hole, and the water came up half way to her knees. Of course that was not very deep, and when Margy saw she was not going to sink down very far she was no longer frightened.

"But I was scared till you grabbed hold of me," she said to Mun Bun. "Is it very deep any more?"

"No, it isn't deep at all," the little boy answered. "I can see down to the bottom all the way to the little island, and it isn't hardly over your toenails."

The tide was very low that day, and in some parts of the inlet there was no water at all, the sandy bottom showing quite dry in the sun.

As Cousin Tom had said, toward the fall of the year the tides are both extra high and extra low. Of course not at the same time, you understand, but twice a day. Sometimes the waters of the ocean came up into the inlet until they nearly flowed over the small pier. Then, some hours later, they would be very low. This was one of the low times for the tide, and it had made several small islands of sand in the middle of Clam River.

It was toward one of these islands that Margy and Mun Bun were wading. They had seen it from the shore and it looked to be a good place to play. There was a big, almost round, spot of white sand, and all about it was shallow water, sparkling in the sun. The deepest water between the shore and the island was half way up to Margy's knees, and that, as I think you will admit, was not deep at all.

"We'll have some fun there," said Mun Bun.

"Maybe we can dig clams," went on the little girl.

Clam River was so called because so many soft and hard clams were dug there by the fishermen, who sold them to people who liked to make chowder of them.

There are two kinds of clams that are good to eat, the hard and the soft. One has a very hard shell, and this is the kind of clam you most often see in the stores.

But there is another sort of clam, with a thin shell, and out of one end of it the clam sticks a long thing, like a rubber tube. And when the clam digs a hole for himself down in the sand or the mud he thrusts this tube up to the top, and through it he sucks down things to eat.

The six little Bunkers had often seen the fishermen on Clam River dig down after these soft-shelled fellows. The men used a short-handled hoe, and when they had dug away the sand there they found the clams in something that looked like little pockets, or burrows.

"Maybe we can dig clams," said Margy.

"We hasn't got any shovel or hoe," returned Mun Bun.

"Maybe we can dig with some big clam shells, if we can find some," his sister said.

By this time they had reached the little island. Just like the islands in your geography, it was "entirely surrounded by water," and it made a nice place to play, except that it was rather sunny. But Mun Bun and Margy did not mind the sun very much.

They were used to playing out in it, and they were now as brown as berries, or Indians, or nuts, whichever you like best. They were well tanned, and did not get sunburned as many little boys and girls do when they go to the seashore for the first time.

"We can take the clams to Cousin Ruth and she can make chowder and she'll give us some cookies, maybe," said Mun Bun.

"I like clams better than cookies," remarked Margy. "I mean I like to eat cookies, but I like to dig clams."

"You can't dig cookies," said Mun Bun.

"You could dig one if you dropped yours in the sand," returned his sister.

"Yes, you could do that," agreed the little boy. "But it would be all sand, and it wouldn't be good to eat."

"I don't guess it would. We'll just dig clams. Anyhow, we hasn't any cookies to dig or to eat."

This was very true. And now the two little children began to hunt for clam shells to use for shovels in digging. They wanted the large shells of the hard clam, and soon each had one. Then they began to dig, as they had seen their father and Cousin Tom do. For Daddy Bunker had once taken Margy and Mun Bun with him and the other Mr. Bunker, when they went to dig soft clams.

Whether Margy and Mun Bun did not know how to dig, or whether there were no clams in the sand of the island I do not know. But I do know that the two little Bunkers did not find any, though they dug holes until their backs ached.

Then Margy said:

"Let's don't play this any more."

"What shall we play?" asked Mun Bun.

"Oh, let's see if we can find some wood and make little boats."

So they walked about the island looking for bits of wood. But none was to be found. For wood floats; that is, unless it is so soaked with water as to be too heavy, and all the pieces of wood that had ever been on the island had floated away.

"I don't guess we can build any boats," said Margy. "Let's go back to shore and get some wood, and then we can come back and sail boats."

"That'll be fun," said Mun Bun. "We'll go."

But when he and his sister started to wade back, they had not gone very far before Margy cried:

"Oh, the water's terrible deep! Look how deep down my foot goes!"

Mun Bun looked. Indeed the water was almost up to Margy's knees now, and she had gone only a few steps away from the shore of the island.

"Let me try it," said her brother. "I'm bigger than you."

He wasn't, though he liked to think so, for Margy was a year older. But I guess Mun Bun was like most boys; he liked to think himself larger than he was.

However, when he stepped out from the island, ahead of Margy, he, too, found that the water was deeper than it had been when they started to wade from the shore near Cousin Tom's pier.

"What makes it?" asked Margy.

"I—I don't know," answered Mun Bun. "I guess somebody must have poured more water in the river."

"Lessen maybe it rained," suggested Margy. "Don't you know how Rainbow River gets bigger when it rains?"

"It didn't rain," said Mun Bun, "or we'd be wet on our backs."

"No, I guess it didn't rain," agreed Margy. Then she cried: "Oh, look, Mun Bun! Our island's getting awful little! It only sticks out of the water hardly any now! Look!"

Mun Bun turned and looked behind him. As his sister had said, the island was very much smaller.

"What—what makes it?" asked Margy.

"I—I don't know," answered Mun Bun. "But it is getting littler, just like when you keep on sucking a lollypop."

And that is just what the island was doing. What Margy and Mun Bun did not know was that the tide had turned, that it was rising, and that it would soon not only make their island much smaller, but would cover it from sight, leaving no island at all!

"Oh, the water's getting deeper," said Margy, as she took another step and found it coming over her little knees. "What are we going to do, Mun Bun?"

"I—I guess we must go back to the middle of the island and stay there," said her brother.

"Oh, shall we ever get off?" Margy asked, and her voice sounded as though she might cry before long. "I can't ever wade to shore when the water is so deep. What are we going to do?"

"We'll call for Daddy!" said Mun Bun.



CHAPTER XVIII

THE MARSHMALLOW ROAST

When anything happened to Mun Bun or his sister Margy they always called for Daddy or Mother Bunker. The other children did the same thing, though of course Margy and Mun Bun, being the youngest, naturally called the most, just as they were the ones who were most often in trouble that needed a father or a mother to straighten out.

"Our island's getting terrible small," said Margy; "and the water's gettin' deeper all around us."

"Yes," agreed Mun Bun, as he got in the middle of what was left of the circle of sand and looked about. "The water is deep. I guess I'd better call!"

"I'll help you," said Margy.

The two children stood in the center of the sandy island that was all the while getting smaller because the tide was rising and covering it, and they called:

"Daddy! Mother! Daddy Bunker! Come and get us!"

They called this way several times, and then waited for some one to come and get them.

If you want to imagine how Margy and Mun Bun looked, marooned as they were on an island in the middle of Clam River, with the tide rising, just get a big, clean stone and put it down in the middle of your bathtub. If you try this you had better put a piece of paper under the stone, so it will not scratch the clean, white tub.

Then on the stone put two other little stones to stand for Margy and Mun Bun. Now put the stopper in the tub and turn on the water. You will see it begin to rise around the stone, and soon only a little of it will be left sticking out of the water.

"Daddy! Mother! Daddy Bunker! Come and get us!"

Now Margy and Mun Bun did not have very strong voices, and, besides, though they were not far from one part of the shore, it was quite a distance to Cousin Tom's house, where their father and mother were at that moment. Also, the wind was blowing their voices away, and over toward the other shore of Clam River, where at this time no one lived.

But the two little Bunkers did not know this, and they kept on calling for their mother or father to come to get them. But neither Daddy nor Mother Bunker answered.

And the water kept on rising, for the tide was coming in fast, and it was going to be high.

Now it happened, just about this time, that Mr. Oscar Burnett, the lobster fisherman, was coming up the inlet in his motor-boat. He had been out to sea to lift his lobster-pots and he had been waiting at the entrance of Clam River for the tide to make the water deep enough for him to come up. On days when the tide was not so low he could come up all right, even at "slack water." But this time the channel was not deep enough for his motor-boat and he had to wait.

And as he puffed up, steering this way and that so as not to run on sand bars, he heard, faintly, the cries of Margy and Mun Bun.

Having good ears, and knowing the cries must be near him, Mr. Burnett looked about.

He saw the place where the island was now almost hidden from sight because of the rising waters, and he saw the two children, Margy and Mun Bun, standing there, their arms around each other, crying for help, and also crying real tears. For they were very much frightened.

"Well, I swan to goodness!" exclaimed the lobster fisherman. "There's those two children again, and this time they're marooned 'stead of being adrift! Yes, sir! They're marooned!"

I used that word once before and I forgot to tell you what it means, so I'll do so now. It means, in sailor talk, being left alone on an island without any way of getting off. Sometimes pirates used to capture ships, take off the passengers and set them on an island without leaving a boat. And the poor passengers were marooned. They could no more get off than could Margy and Mun Bun.

"Marooned! That's what they are!" said Mr. Burnett. "I'll have to go over and get 'em, just as I got 'em when they drifted down the inlet in the boat. I never saw such children for getting into trouble!"

Not that Mr. Burnett thought it was too much trouble to go and get Margy and Mun Bun off the island where they were marooned. Instead, he was very glad to do it, for he loved children. So he steered his motor-boat over toward what was left of the island—which was very little now, as the tide was still rising. Then the lobster fisherman called:

"Don't be afraid, Mun Bun and Margy! I'll soon get you! Don't be afraid. Just stand still and don't wade off into the deep water."



The island was shaped like a little hill, high in the middle, and Margy and Mun Bun had kept stepping back until they now stood on the highest part in the middle.

All about them was the water, deeper in some places than in others. And you may be sure that the little boy and his sister did not try to get off the high spot. There the water was only over their feet, but if they stayed there much longer it might cover their heads.

However no such dreadful thing happened, for Mr. Burnett steered his boat up to them until it grounded in the sand of the island that was now under water.

"Now you're all right!" said the kind man. He shut off his motor and jumped over the side of the boat. Right into the water he stepped, but as he had on high rubber boots he did not get his feet wet.

Mr. Burnett picked up Margy and set her down in his boat.

"Oh, look at the big lobsters!" cried the little girl. "Will they pinch me?"

Well might she ask that question, for the bottom of the boat was filled with lobsters with big claws, some of which were moving about, the pinching parts opening and shutting.

"They won't hurt you," said Mr. Burnett with a laugh. "Just keep up on the seat, Margy, and you won't get pinched."

The seats in the lobster boat were broad and high, and on one of them Margy and Mun Bun, who was soon lifted off the island to her side, were safe from the lobsters, which Mr. Burnett had taken from his pots, some miles out at sea.

"How did you come to go on the island when the tide was rising?" asked the fisherman, as he started his boat once more.

"The water was low, and we waded out barefoot," explained Margy.

"We were goin' to dig clams," added Mun Bun.

"But we couldn't find any," continued Margy. "And then when we went to wade back home the water got deep and we were afraid."

"I should think you would be!" replied the lobster fisherman. "Well, I'm glad I heard you call. It wouldn't be very nice on your island now."

The children looked back. Their island was out of sight. It was "submerged," as a sailor would say, meaning that it was under the water. For the tide had risen and covered it.

"Will you take us home?" asked Margy.

"That's what I will," said the lobster fisherman. "I'll take you right up to Mr. Bunker's pier. I guess your folks don't know where you are, nor what trouble you might have been in if I hadn't come along just when I did."

And this was true, for neither Daddy nor Mother Bunker, nor Cousin Tom nor his wife, nor any of the other little Bunkers had heard the cries of Mun Bun and Margy.

But as the motor-boat went puffing up to the little wharf the noise it made was heard by Mr. and Mrs. Bunker, who ran down from the cottage to see it, as they wanted to buy a fresh lobster and they had been told that Mr. Burnett might soon come back from having gone to lift his pots.

"Well, I had pretty good luck to-day," said the old fisherman, as he stopped his boat at the pier, and pointed to Margy and Mun Bun. "See what I caught!"

"Margy!" cried her mother, in great surprise.

"Mun Bun!" exclaimed the little boy's father.

"Did you go out in a boat again?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"Oh, no'm, we didn't do that!" said Mun Bun quickly.

"We just waded over to the little island," said Margy. "But somebody poured water in the river, and it got high and we couldn't wade back again."

"They were marooned in the middle of Clam River for a fact! That's what they were!" said Mr. Burnett. "But I heard 'em yell, and I took 'em off. Here they are."

"You must never wade out like that again," said the father of Mun Bun and Margy. "This river isn't like ours at home. An island there is always an island, unless floods come, and you know about them. There is a tide here twice a day and what may seem a safe bit of sand on which to play at one time may be covered with water at another. So don't go wading unless you ask your mother or me first."

"We won't," promised Mun Bun and Margy.

Then Mr. Bunker thanked Mr. Burnett and after the lobster had been bought the fisherman puffed away in his boat, waving a good-bye to the children he had saved from being marooned on the island.

Mun Bun and Margy had to tell their story over again several times and they had to answer many questions from their brothers and sisters, about how they felt when they saw the water coming up.

Of course the two smallest of the six little Bunkers had been in some danger, though if Mr. Burnett had not seen them and rescued them, some one else might have done so. But it taught all the little Bunkers a lesson about the dangers of the rising tide, and if any of you ever go to the seashore I hope you will be careful. If you live at the shore, of course you know about the tides.

As the August days went on, the children played in the sand and had many good times. Often they would pretend to be digging for gold, as they had heard Sammie Brown tell of his father having done, but they had given up hoping to find any.

"But we might find my locket," said Rose.

"And we might find that queer box the tide washed away before we could see what was in it," said Russ. "I wish we could find that."

Often he would walk along the beach looking at the driftwood and other things cast up by the waves and hope for a sight of the mysterious box.

"If we'd only seen what was in it we wouldn't feel so bad," said Rose. "But it's like a puzzle you never can guess."

One evening Daddy Bunker came home from the village with some round tin boxes.

"What's in 'em?" cried Violet, always the first to ask a question.

"Let's guess!" proposed Laddie. "Maybe I can make up a riddle about 'em."

"I know what's in them," said Russ. "I can read it on the box. It's marshmallow candies."

"Oh, are we going to have a marshmallow roast on the beach?" cried Rose.

"Yes, that's what we are going to have," her father said.

"Oh, hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" cried the six little Bunkers.



CHAPTER XIX

THE SALLIE GROWLER

Have you ever toasted marshmallow candies at the seashore beach? If you have you need not stop to read this part of the story. But if you have not, from this and the next page you may learn how to do it.

In the first place you need three things to have a marshmallow roast, and you can easily guess what the first thing is. It's a box of the white candies. Then you need a fire, and, if you are a little boy or girl, it will be best to have your father or mother or some big person make the fire for you, as you might get burned.

Then you need some long, pointed sticks on which to hold the marshmallow candies as you toast them. If the sticks are too short you will toast your fingers or your face instead of the candies.

"Have you got lots of marshmallows, Daddy?" asked Rose, as she and the other children gathered about their father.

"Plenty, I think," he answered. "We don't want so many that you will be made ill, you know."

"I can eat a lot of 'em without getting sick," declared Laddie.

"I like 'em, too," said Vi. "Where do the marshmallow candies come from, Daddy?" she asked.

"From the store, of course!" exclaimed Laddie.

"No, I mean before they get to the store," went on the little girl. "Does a hen lay the marshmallows, same as chickens lay eggs?"

"Oh, no!" laughed Daddy Bunker. "Marshmallow candy is made from sugar and other things, just as most candies are."

As the six little Bunkers, with their father and mother and Cousin Tom and his wife, walked down to the shore of the sea, which was light from the beams of a silvery moon, Laddie said:

"I have a new riddle!"

"Is it about marshmallows?" asked Vi.

"No. But the candies made me think of it," replied her brother. "It's about a fire."

"What is your riddle about a fire?" asked Cousin Ruth, who always liked to hear Laddie ask his funny questions.

"Where does the fire go when it goes out?" Laddie asked. "That's my riddle. Where does the fire go when it goes out?"

"It doesn't go anywhere," declared Russ. "It just stays where it is."

"Part of it goes away," declared Laddie. "Where does it go? Where does the hot part go when the fire goes out?"

"Up in the air," said Rose.

"Off in the ocean!" exclaimed Mun Bun, who really did not know what they were talking about.

"Does it, Daddy?" asked Laddie.

"Why, I don't know," said Mr. Bunker. "It's your riddle; you ought to know what the answer is."

"But I don't," admitted Laddie. "I made up the riddle, but I don't know what the answer is. If some of you could think of a good answer it would be a good riddle."

"Yes, I guess it would," agreed Mrs. Bunker. "This is the time you didn't think of a good one, Laddie. A riddle isn't much good unless some one knows the answer."

Perhaps some of you who are reading this story can tell the answer.

Down on the beach went the six little Bunkers. There was a bright moon shining and here and there were other parties of children and young people, some going to have marshmallow roasts also, and some who only came down to look at the ocean shining under the silver moon.

Mun Bun and Margy, with Violet and Laddie, raced about in the sand, while Russ and Rose helped their father and Cousin Tom gather driftwood for the fire. There was plenty of it, and it was dry, for it had been in the hot sun all day.

"What makes the sand so sandy?" asked Vi, as she sat down beside her mother and Cousin Ruth and let some of the "beach dust," as Daddy Bunker sometimes called it, run through her fingers.

"That's a hard question to answer," laughed Mother Bunker. "You might as well ask what makes the moon so shiny."

"Or what makes the water so wet," added Cousin Ruth. "Oh, you are such a funny little girl, Violet!"

"What makes me?" asked Vi.

"I suppose one reason is that you ask so many funny questions," said Cousin Ruth. "But there, Daddy has lighted the fire, and we can soon begin to roast the marshmallows."

On the beach, near Russ and Rose, where they were standing with their father and Cousin Tom, a cheerful blaze sprang up. It looked very pretty in the moonlight night, with the sparkling sea out beyond.

"Can we roast 'em now?" asked Laddie, as he got ready one of the long, pointed sticks.

"Not quite yet," said his father. "Better to wait until the fire makes a lot of red-hot coals, or embers of wood. Then we can hold our candies over them and they will not get burned or blackened by the blaze. Wait a bit."

So they sat about the fire, while Daddy Bunker and Cousin Tom piled on more wood. The boxes of the candies had been opened, so they would be all ready, and each of the ten Bunkers had a long, sharp-pointed stick to use as a toasting-fork.

"I guess we are ready now," said Daddy Bunker, after they had listened to a jolly song sung by another party of marshmallow roasters farther down the beach. "There are plenty of hot embers now."

Cousin Tom poked aside the blazing pieces of driftwood and underneath were the hot, glowing embers.

"Now each one put a candy on a stick and hold the marshmallow over the embers," said Daddy Bunker. "Don't hold it still, but turn it around. This is just the same as shaking corn when you pop it, or turning bread over when you toast it. By turning the marshmallow it will not burn so quickly."

So, kneeling in a circle about the fire, the six little Bunkers, and the others, began to roast the candies. But Margy and Mun Bun did not have very good luck. They forgot to turn their marshmallows and they held them so close to the fire that they had accidents.

"Oh, Mun Bun's candy is burning!" cried Rose.

"And Margy's is on fire, too!" added Russ.

"Oh, that's too bad!" cried Mother Bunker. "Never mind," she said, as she saw that the two little tots felt sorry. "I'll toast your candies for you. It's rather hard for you to do it."

Mrs. Bunker's own candy was toasted a nice brown and all puffed up, for this is what happens when you toast marshmallows. So she gave Mun Bun and Margy some of hers, and then began to brown more.

The other children did very well, and soon they were all eating the toasted candies. Now and then one would catch fire, for sugar, you know, burns faster than wood or coal. But it was easy to blow out the flaming candies, and, if they were not too badly burned, they were good to eat.

"Oh, look at the little dog!" cried Rose, as she put a fresh marshmallow on her stick. "He smells our candy! May I give him one, Daddy?"

"Yes, but give him one that isn't toasted. He might burn himself on a hot one. Whose dog is he?"

"He just ran over to me from down there," and Rose pointed to some boys and girls about another fire farther down the beach, who were also roasting marshmallows. The dog seemed glad to be with Rose and his new friends, and let each of the six little Bunkers pat him. He ate several candies and then ran back where he belonged.

"Oh, he was awful cute!" exclaimed Vi. "I wish we could keep him. Couldn't we have a dog some time?"

"Maybe, when we get back home again," promised Mother Bunker.

The marshmallow roast was fun, and even after the candies had all been eaten the party sat on the beach a little longer, looking at the waves in the moonlight.

"Now it's time to go to bed!" called Mother Bunker. "Margy and Mun Bun are so sleepy they can't keep their eyes open. Come on! We'll have more fun to-morrow!"

"I'm going crabbing off the pier," declared Russ. "There's lots of crabs now, Mr. Burnett says."

"Yes, August is a good month to catch crabs," returned Cousin Tom.

"I'm going fishing," said Laddie. "Can you catch fish off your pier, Cousin Tom?"

"Oh, yes, sometimes. But don't catch any Sallie Growlers."

"What's a Sallie Growler?" asked Vi, before any one else could speak.

"Oh, you'll know as soon as you catch one," laughed her cousin. Then he picked up Mun Bun, who was really asleep by this time, and carried him up to the house, while Daddy Bunker took Margy, whose eyes were also closed.

True to their promises Russ and Laddie went down to the little boat wharf the next morning after breakfast. Russ had the crab net and a chunk of meat tied to a string. Laddie had a short pole and line and a hook baited with a piece of clam, for that was what fishermen often used, Cousin Tom said.

"Now we'll see who catches the first fish!" exclaimed Laddie, as he sat down on the pier.

"I'm not fishing for fish, I'm fishing for crabs," said Russ.

"Well, in this race we'll count a crab and a fish as the same thing," returned Laddie. "We'll see who gets the first one."

The boys waited some time. Now and then Russ would feel a little tug at his line, as if the crabs were tasting his bait, but had not quite made up their minds to take a good hold so he could pull them up and catch them in the net. And the cork float on Laddie's line would bob up and down a little as though he, too, had nibbles. But neither of them had caught anything yet.

Suddenly Laddie felt a hard tug, and he yelled:

"Oh, I got one! I got one! I got the first bite!"

He yanked on his pole. Something brown and wiggling came up out of the water and flopped down on the wharf. At the same time a little dog that had run up behind the two boys and was sniffing around, gave a sudden yelp.

"What's the matter?" cried Russ.

"He's bit by a Sallie Growler! The Sallie Growler you caught bit my dog on the nose!" exclaimed another boy and he began striking at the brown thing Laddie had caught, which was now fast to the nose of the dog that had been eating marshmallows the night before.



CHAPTER XX

THE WALKING FISH

Laddie dropped his fishing-pole. Russ let go of his crab-line, and they both stood looking at the dog and at the strange boy. The dog was howling, and trying to paw off from his nose a queer and ugly-looking fish that had hold of it. It was the fish Laddie had caught and which the boy had called a "Sallie Growler."

"Cousin Tom told us about them last night," thought Russ. "I wonder why they have such a funny name, and what makes 'em bite so."

But he did not ask the questions aloud just then. There was too much going on to let him do this.

The dog was howling, and the new boy was yelling, at the same time striking at the fish on the end of his dog's nose.

"Take him off! Take off that Sallie Growler!" yelled the boy.

But the brown fish Laddie had caught looked too ugly and savage. Neither of the little Bunkers was going to touch it and the new boy did not seem to want to any more than did Russ or Laddie.

As for the dog, he could not help himself. The fish had hold of him; he didn't have hold of the fish.

Finally, after much howling and pawing, the dog either knocked the fish off his nose, or the Sallie Growler let go of its own accord and lay on the pier.

"Poor Teddy!" said the boy as he bent over his pet to pat him. "Did he hurt you a lot?" The dog whimpered and wagged his tail. He did not seem to be badly hurt, though there were some spots of blood on his nose.

"I guess he'll be all right if the Sallie Growler doesn't poison him," said the boy. "How'd you come to catch it?" he asked, looking from Laddie to Russ.

"I didn't want to catch it," said Laddie. "I was fishing for good fish and I got a bite and pulled that up!" and he pointed to the ugly brown fish that lay gasping on the boards.

"Is it a Sallie Growler?" asked Russ.

"It is," said the new boy. "And they can bite like anything. Look how that one held on to my dog's nose."

"I hope he isn't hurt much," put in Laddie. "I didn't mean to do it."

"No, I guess you didn't," said the other boy. "Nobody ever tries to catch a Sallie Growler. They're too nasty and hard to get off the hook. 'Most always they swallow it, but this one didn't. He dropped off just as you landed him and then my dog came along and smelled him—Teddy's always smelling something—and the fish bit him."

"Do you live around here?" asked Russ.

"Yes, we're here for the summer. I guess I saw you down on the beach last night roasting marshmallows, didn't I?"

"Yes, and we gave your dog some," returned Laddie. "What's your name?"

"George Carr. What's yours?"

"Laddie Bunker."

"Mine's Russ," said Laddie's brother. "Oh, look! I guess I've got a crab!"

He ran to where he had tied the end of his string to a post of the pier, and began to pull in. Surely enough, on the end was a big blue-clawed crab, and, with the help of Laddie, who used the net, the creature was soon landed on the pier.

"Here! You keep away from that crab!" called George Carr to his dog Teddy. "Do you want your nose bit again?"