Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, with Cousin Jasper, followed by Bert and Nan, hurried down the beach to Flossie and Freddie, standing beside a hole they had dug in the sand. The children were looking down into it.
“I busted one egg with my clam-shell shovel,” Freddie was saying, “but there’s a lot left.”
“They were all covered with sand,” added Flossie. “And we dug ’em up! Didn’t we, Freddie? We dug up the chickie’s nest!”
“But we didn’t see any chickens,” said the little boy.
“And for a very good reason,” stated Cousin Jasper with a laugh, as he looked down into the little sand pit. “Those are the eggs of a turtle. Perhaps the very turtle that had hold of your dress, Flossie.”
“Do turtles lay eggs?” asked Freddie in surprise.
“Indeed they do,” said Cousin Jasper.
“O-o-oh!” gasped Flossie.
“And the turtle’s eggs are good to eat, too. They are not quite as nice as the eggs of a hen, but lots of people, especially those who live on some of these islands, like them very much,” went on Mr. Dent.
“Does a turkle lay its eggs in a nest like a hen?” Flossie questioned. “What made them all be covered up?”