“Let us play just once more,” said Aunt Claire. “It is my turn to hide the treasure, and I think I can find a place which will not be too hard, all among these markings. Blind your eyes, little Pirate.”
“All right,” said Rose, who was a very good-natured pirate. And she closed her eyes.
Now there was not much smooth sand for Aunt Claire to walk in, but she managed to go up and down the beach in a funny parallel-lined pattern, like this:—
And when she called, “Coo,” Rose started off upon the trail, laughing every time she turned the sharp corner and came back upon the long stretch up or down.
At last she came to the little bubbly mound in the sand where Aunt Claire had hidden the treasure. She stooped over and her yellow curls swept the sand as she thrust in all her ten fingers with a shout of triumph. Presently she jumped up with the treasure in her hand and stood still, examining it curiously. Then she gave a squeal of joy and came racing up the beach to her auntie, with her curls flying madly.
“Why, Aunt Claire,” she cried, “it is a really, truly treasure, this time! See what was hidden inside the whirly-shell!” and she held up a bright ten-cent piece which she had pulled out of the little treasure-box.
“So there is,” said her auntie. “I wonder how it got there?”
Rose looked at Aunt Claire and laughed. “I like this game; very specially the end of it,” she said. “Now what shall we do next, Auntie?”
“We can’t play here any more,” said Aunt Claire. “The beach is so marked up that if a pirate should hide his treasure here he might never be able to find it again. I would not risk mine, if I were you.”