“It looks just like the same one,” said Russ.

“I’m positive it is,” added his father.  “I remember the size and shape of the other box and this is just the same.  And there were two funny marks in the wood on top, and this has the same marks.”

“There was a piece of paper tacked on the other box,” said Russ.  “That isn’t here now.”

“That was soaked off in the water and washed away,” said his father.  “But you can still see the four tacks, one for each corner of the card.  I suppose that had some address on but it was washed off by the salt water.”

“What made the box come back to us?” asked Laddie, as Cousin Tom came walking along with a heavy stick he was going to use as a hammer to open the case.

“Well, no one knows what the sea is going to do,” replied Daddy Bunker.  “It washes up queer things and takes them away again.  I suppose this has been floating around for some time—­ever since it was washed away from us the time we thought we so surely had it.”

“It may have been washed up on the beach in some lonely spot a little while after we last saw it,” said Cousin Tom.  “And it may have been there ever since until the last high tide, when it was washed away again and then I happened to spy it just now.  But it will not get away again until we open it.”

Using the piece of heavy driftwood he had picked up as a hammer, Cousin Tom soon broke the top of the box that had drifted ashore.  He pulled back the splintered pieces and eagerly they all looked inside.  The box was about two feet long and the same in height and width, and all Laddie and Russ could see at first was what seemed to be some heavy paper.

[Illustration:  COUSIN TOM BROKE OPEN THE BOX WITH A PIECE OF DRIFTWOOD Six Little Bunkers at Cousin Tom’s.—­Page 210]

“Is that all that’s in it?” cried Russ.

“Wait and see,” advised his father.  “There may be something under the paper.”

Cousin Tom put his hand in and raised the covering.  Some bright colors were seen and then what appeared to be a lot of pieces of cloth.

“A lot of dresses!” exclaimed Russ in disappointed tones.  “That’s all!”

“But here is something inside the dresses,” said his father with a smile.

“Something in the dresses?”

“Yes.  Unless I am very much mistaken there are Japanese dolls in this box—­maybe half a dozen of them—­and it is their gaily colored dresses which you see.  Isn’t that it, Cousin Tom?”

“You are right, Daddy Bunker!  There they are!  Japanese dolls!” and Cousin Tom pulled out one about two feet long and held it up in front of the two boys.

“Dolls!” gasped Laddie.

“Japanese dolls!” added his brother.

“A little spoiled by the salt water, but still pretty good,” said Cousin Tom, as he pulled another doll out of the box.  “They were wrapped in oiled silk and the box is lined with a sort of water-proof cloth, so they didn’t get as wet as they might otherwise.  Some of the dresses are a bit stained, and I see that the black-haired wig of one of the dolls has melted off.  But we can glue that on again.  Well, that’s quite a find—­six nice, large Japanese dolls,” laughed Cousin Tom.