“Guess somebody lost his shirt,” observed Jud, keeping a firm grip on Dot, who seemed to be trying to dance.
“Say, wouldn’t it be funny,” began Bobby, but Meg had the same idea at the same time.
“Do you suppose it could–––” she said slowly.
“It’s the raft!” yelled Twaddles, breaking away from Jud, and rushing into the bushes. “It’s our raft––Oh, Jud!” Twaddles had stepped on a sharp stone.
“I wish you’d be a little more careful,” said Jud calmly. “Well, it is the raft! Can you beat that?”
Tangled in broken reeds and a few prickly bushes, lay their raft, Geraldine smiling as sweetly as ever and still propped up against Meg’s book. Nothing was missing, not even Twaddles’ singing bird or Bobby’s airplane.
“I’m so glad!” Meg kept saying. “I’m so 176 glad! Now let’s go home and play with them.”
“It’s lucky we’ve had this long, dry spell,” said Jud, picking up Geraldine and eyeing her critically. “If we’d had one good storm, good-by toys.”
Dot tucked Geraldine under her arm, Twaddles stuffed his bird into his pocket, Meg took her book and Bobby his airplane, and Jud offered to tow the raft. So slowly and carefully they made their way back to where Jud had left his socks and shoes.
Aunt Polly and Linda were surprised and delighted when they saw the children coming, for they had begun to wonder what they could be doing.