She pointed to the black, wooden pot of laths—the one she had thrust her rag doll into. This pot was partly under one or two others, so that the inside could not be seen clearly. But, having heard his sister’s story, Teddy began lifting off the covering pots so he could get at the one to which Janet pointed, Janet falling to, to help him.
When this had been done the three children clearly saw, through the cracks between the laths, something moving about inside the pot.
“Oh, it’s my doll!” exclaimed Janet.
“She’s movin’ like she was alive,” said Trouble.
“You’re right! A lobster has her!” cried Teddy. “A lobster must have been left in one of the pots when they came ashore or when they were left here. And when you stuck the doll in, the lobster thought it was something good to eat, I guess, and grabbed it.”
“Yes, that’s how it was,” Janet agreed. “But, Teddy,” she demanded, “how am I going to get my doll again? I want her back.”
“It’s only a rag doll!” scoffed Teddy.
“I don’t care if she is only a rag doll,” and now Janet began to cry, “I want her back! I want my rag doll!”
“Oh, I’ll get her for you!” said Teddy. “I’ll get her.”
“How can you?” his sister wanted to know.