"My little boy means a Plush Bear," explained Mrs. Rowe, and then she told what had happened.
"Oh, a toy, buried in the sand," said the guard, laughing. "Well, that's too bad. Right around here, was it? Well, I happened to be passing this afternoon, and I noticed just about the spot where the children were sitting on the sand. I didn't see the Plush Bear, but I know the children were digging, and it wasn't at this spot—it was nearer the ocean. Over here it was," the guard went on, moving away from the place where Arthur had been sure he had made the cave for the toy. "You see, we coast guards get in the habit of noticing things and remembering where they are," he added. "You were looking in the wrong place. I fancy your Bear must have been covered up in some way. I'll dig here!"
With a stick the guard began digging, and in a little while he uncovered the Plush Bear.
"Oh, there he is! There he is!" cried Arthur, as he saw his toy again. "Oh, thank you for finding him for me!" and he took his plaything from the hands of the coast guard.
"Yes, that's what I say—thanks a whole lot of times!" murmured the Plush Bear to himself, as once more he was able to breathe. "This was the most terrible adventure I ever had!"
But the Plush Bear was to have one even worse, as you shall soon hear.
"You must be more careful of your toys, Arthur," said his mother, as, having thanked the man, she and her children went back to the hotel.
"I'll never put him in a sand hole again," promised the little fat boy.
That night, when Arthur and Nettie were snug in their beds, and the Plush Bear and the Rag Doll were in a closet by themselves, the Doll leaned over and said:
"Wasn't it terrible, Mr. Bear?"