"Hurry up, Meg," he urged. "I want to see. Bobby, can't I have 'em
now?"

"Don't bother me," said Meg impatiently. "I see something. Look,
Bobby, isn't that something moving on Kidd's island?"

"Let me look, Meg. Why, it's somebody waving a rag tied on a
pole."

Sure enough, it was. Neither Bobby nor Meg could make out what it
was that held the pole, but it certainly was a pole with a bit of
cloth dipping crazily about from one end of it.

"Isn't that funny?" puzzled Meg, staring at Bobby. "No one lives
on Kidd's Island."

Dot's mind was full of pirates; and no wonder, for the four
children had talked and played pirate games for weeks.

"I'll bet a pirate is there and he wants you to come so he can
kidnap you," said Dot solemnly.

Twaddles was staring through the glasses, his "turn" having come
at last.

"Maybe he's a sick pirate," he ventured.

"Meg," said Bobby suddenly, "I'll bet that's a signal for help; or
if it isn't, some one ought to go to see what it is. It's almost