So Bobby dug.  And presently his shovel struck something.

“Oh, Bobby, what is it?” shrieked Meg.  “Is it an iron chest?”

She really half-believed that Bobby had found the pirate’s buried treasure.

The twins were scrambling over the rocks and they heard Meg’s cry.  Mother Blossom had kept them as long as she could, but they had insisted on setting out a half hour before noon and they had run most of the way, the lunch basket bumping wildly in time to their steps.  Their faces red from the heat and streaming with perspiration, they burst into the ruins of the Harley house just as Bobby brushed the dirt from his find.  “I don’t know what it is,” said Bobby, trying to look closely at the odd-shaped little thing in his hand, with three children insisting on seeing it at the same time.  “Look out, Dot, you nearly made me drop it.”

None of the children could guess what it was Bobby had found, and finally he slipped it into his pocket to take home and show Father Blossom.  Then he discovered that he was hungry, and the twins proudly produced the basket.

“Have to wash first,” announced Bobby firmly.  “Did you bring a towel?”

Mother Blossom had sent a towel, and Bobby pulled up a brimming bucket of water from the Harley well and poured the old tin wash basin full.  The well had been thoroughly cleaned out that Spring by the men whom the Winthrops sent up to put the bungalow in order.  They had wisely decided that it was better to have all the water on the island fit to drink rather than to try to keep any one from using an abandoned well.

“You and Dot wash,” commanded Bobby, when his face was washed and dried and his hands as neat as could be.

“I did wash my face ’fore breakfast,” insisted Twaddles indignantly.  He thought that should last him a long time.

Bobby, however, was equally insistent, and Dot and Twaddles had to bathe their hands and faces before he would let them share in the contents of the lunch basket.  Mother Blossom was used to satisfying four good appetites, and the children ate every crumb she had sent them.

Then they went back to their game, and Twaddles and Dot tried their luck at locating buried treasure.

“Dig here, Bobby!” Twaddles cried.  “This place sounds hollow, honest it does.”

“You don’t tell me!” said another voice, a man’s voice.  “Why do you suppose that is?”

Twaddles jumped, and Meg turned around, startled.

CHAPTER XIII

A SIGNAL FOR HELP

“Didn’t scare you, did I?” said Mr. Harley, walking into the circle and smiling at the perplexed faces.

“We didn’t hear you coming,” answered Bobby.  “Did you row over?”

“Yes, I came over to tell your mother that your father couldn’t get back till the afternoon boat,” Mr. Harley explained.  “Your mother wanted to know if I’d come and fetch you.”