“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.”