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?”