“Oh, this is richer sand than yours!” said Tom, as he stooped down to the water’s edge and took a long drink.
“Richer?” cried Willie, looking round at the others. Had Tom guessed there was gold lying about in the gleaming sand?
“Yes,” chuckled Tom, “richer. It’s like yellow butter and white butter—which would you rather have?”
“Oh, the yellow, Tom!” they cried, quite relieved, for now they knew that Tom didn’t mean anything about gold when he said rich, and their secret was still safe.
“Why, Baby’s got the best castles of the whole lot of you!” said Tom, surveying Baby’s buildings, “and wells and roads and all.”
“Oh, yes, Tom!” they all agreed. “We’ve only been fooling.”
Then Tom sat on the sand and talked. Another time they would have liked talking to Tom, but to-day they did want to go on with their prospecting. At last he rose to go, and Willie accompanied him up the bank, and stayed there till Tom was almost out of sight, and then he dashed into the work again.
“Hello! is this where you are?” a fresh young voice called out from the top of the bank, and they glanced up to see Mollie’s laughing face. Oh, dear, dear! what bad luck! They didn’t mean to tell Mollie, and now they’d have to, because she’d wonder what they were working so hard at and why their hands were blistered. In fact, she’d ask all kinds of questions, and here she was coming down the steep bank! What a sickening place it was! They couldn’t even have a secret to themselves. First Tom, and then Mollie. The river was miles and miles long. Why ever didn’t they keep away from the Rocky Bend just for that evening?
“Here, Mollie, you promise not to laugh at us?” cried Willie, sturdily.
“Of course I won’t laugh,” said Mollie.