The receding waves had just left this wet flat bare. Here and there the sand still dimpled to the heave of the tide, and little rivers of water ran into the hollows and out again.
“What is the matter, Tess?” asked Dot, wonderingly.
“See!”
Tess pointed down at her feet—where the drab, wet sand showed lighter-colored under the pressure of her weight.
“What is it?” gasped the amazed Dot.
There was a tiny round hole in the sand—just like an ant hole, only there was no “hill” thrown up about it. As Tess tip-tilted on her toes to bring more pressure to bear near the orifice in the sand, a little fountain of water spurted into the air—shot as though from a fairy gun buried in the sand.
“Goodness!” gasped Dot again. “What is that?”
“That’s what I say,” responded Tess. “Did you ever see the like?”
“Oh! here’s another,” cried Dorothy, who chanced to step near a similar vent. “See it squirt, Tess! See it squirt!”
“What kind of a creature do you suppose can be down there?” asked the bigger girl.