“Not necessarily,” Marjorie pointed out practically. “He might have buried it in a hurry and then the Indians or somebody might have killed him right afterwards.”
“I give up.” Judy flung her shovel on the ground. “The boys can find the treasure first for all I care. My hands are so sore I couldn’t paddle a canoe. So let’s go swimming.”
“All right,” Marjorie agreed. “I do want you to have fun while you’re our guest, Judy,” she added worriedly.
“Oh, I am,” Judy assured her with a quick smile. “It was my idea to dig for the treasure, not yours. But let’s forget about it for awhile.”
“Let’s,” Marjorie agreed. “Besides, I haven’t been much of a help to Penny lately. I’m supposed to be assistant hostess, you know, and help her entertain the guests.”
“Well, I’m a guest,” Judy said with a giggle. “And you’ve entertained me royally.”
From then on Marjorie spent more time helping Penny and Ann Mary and Theresa.
By the first of August the boys had made great progress with the shack. Mal, Pat and Phil helped out whenever they could and some of the guests pitched in occasionally. The walls and the roof were now up, the doors and windows were in place and the boys had even spent two nights sleeping there on cots. They were now putting in the finishing touches, and true to their promise they had let Marjorie and Judy help.
Marjorie, in her enthusiasm over being allowed to put up a shower wall all by herself, had banged her finger with the hammer and the boys had suggested that she and Judy take some time off to recuperate. So Marjorie and Judy were looking for shells down on the beach.
“Oh, golly,” Judy said in disgust after awhile, “all the nice ones seem to get as far under the rocks as they can.”