it joins yours, is a deepy kind of a place, and it's quite sandy."

"Just the thing!" cried Marjorie. "I know that place. Come on!"

She was off like a deer, and the rest followed. A few moments' scamper
brought them to the place, and all declared it was just the very spot
for a palace.

"I'd like beach sand better, though," said Marjorie.

"We'll bring all you want," declared Tom. "We'll take a wheelbarrow, and
bring heaps up from the beach."

The Sand Club worked for days getting their palace in order. The two big
boys wheeled many loads of sand up from the beach, and Marjorie and the
two other boys arranged it in shape.

Dick was clever at building, and he planned a number of fine effects. Of
course, their palace had no roof or walls, but the apartments were
partitioned off with low walls of sand, and there were sand sofas and
chairs, and a gorgeous throne.

The throne was a heap of sand, surmounted by a legless armchair, found
in the Craigs' attic, and at court meetings draped with pink cheesecloth
and garlands of flowers. The whole palace was really a "secret haunt,"
for a slight rise of ground screened it from view on two sides and trees
shaded the other side.

The parents of both families were pleased with the whole scheme, for it
kept the children occupied, and they could always be found at a moment's