"Yes, I'm only joking," said Laddie's father. "I guess Cousin Ruth will have plenty to eat. We'll walk along the beach a little way and then go home."
The two men reeled in their fish lines and, with the two little boys, strolled along the sand. Laddie and Russ were wondering what they could do to have some fun, and they were thinking of different things when Cousin Tom, who was a little way ahead, cried:
"Look! Isn't that a box being washed up on the beach?"
They all looked and saw something white and square being rolled over and over in the waves nearest the shore. It was quite a distance ahead of them, but Cousin Tom, handing his pole and basket to Daddy Bunker, ran and, wading into the surf with his high rubber boots, caught hold of the box.
"It shan't get away from us this time!" he called to Daddy Bunker, Russ and Laddie as they hastened toward him. "I'll keep it safe this time, all right!" and he carried the box well up among the sand dunes, or little hills, well out of reach of the highest tide.
"Why do you say 'this time'?" asked Daddy Bunker. "Did you ever pull in this box before?"
"Indeed I did, or, rather, one of us did. This is the same box the children found once before; don't you remember? This time we'll find out what is in this box for sure. And we won't wait for a hammer, either. I'll use a piece of driftwood."
As Daddy Bunker and the two boys gathered around the box they saw that indeed it was the same one that had been cast up before by the waves.