You know Daddy made him put it back before he could eat it. If
strawberries don't belong to anybody, I guess apples don't."

Meg's honest blue eyes looked beseechingly at her brother.

"All right," surrendered Bobby. "I wasn't going to eat 'em,
anyway."

"I hope not," said Meg severely. "What'll we play?"

"Hunting for treasure," responded Bobby. "That's why I brought the
shovel. You want to pound first?"

Meg and Bobby had invented this game. They pretended that hundreds
of years ago fierce pirates had buried chests of gold and jewels
on this end of the island and that the Harley shack had been the
castle home of these wicked sea rovers. The pirates had died
without leaving directions to tell where they had buried the
treasure, and gradually the castle had crumbled away.

Then, one day, there came two brave sailors (some people called
them Meg and Bobby) and they set to work to dig up the great iron
chests. They meant to divide the money and jewels with the
descendants of those from whom the pirates had stolen it. And
their method of locating the buried treasure was to go about with
a shovel and tap here and there. Where the earth gave out a hollow
sound, there they would dig. These two sailors had not yet found
anything, but it was certainly an exciting game.

"Dig here, Bobby!" cried Meg, when she had rapped the earth around