"Uncle Dick was telling us about smugglers the other night."
"Yes, I know, that is what made me think of it. He showed me the island where there used to be a smuggler's cave."
"I remember it; we saw it when we were out sailing one day."
"We must build a birch bark ship for the Hips family," said Polly, changing the subject. "Your Applebys can live on my island and if they don't want to associate with the Roseberries they can have a cave to themselves."
"Roseberry is such a nice pleasant name for wicked people," remarked Mary. "Why don't you call them something else?"
"Nobody ever does call them that," returned Polly readily. "The father is the leader of the gang, and he is Bold Ben. His three sons are One-eyed Peter, Crooked Tom, and Sly Sam. They call his wife Old Mag, and then there are two cousins, twins; they are Smiling Steve and Grinning Jim."
"Oh, Polly, how do you think of such names?" said Molly delightedly. "What does Old Mag do?"
"She pulls in things from the wreck and she cooks the meals. Then, when the men are all away smuggling, she sits in the cave and spends her time looking at the jewels and letting them drip through her fingers."
"Jewels can't drip," observed Mary in a matter-of-fact way.
"Well, they look as if they could," returned Polly. "The diamonds are like drops of water, the pearls like milk and the rubies like blood."