"Sure we haven't forgotten anything?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, taking a
hasty inventory of the hand baggage.

"Bert's got Snoop and I've got Downy," answered Freddie, as if the
animals were all that counted.

"And I've got my hatbox and flowers," added Nan.

"And I have my ferns," said little Flossie.

"I guess we're all here this time," Mr. Bobbsey finished, for nothing
at all seemed to be missing.

It was almost nightfall, and the beautiful glow of an ocean sunset
rested over the place. At the rear of the station an aged stage
driver sat nodding on his turnout. The stage coach was an "old
timer," and had carried many a merry party of sightseers through the
sandy roads of Oceanport and Sunset Beach, while Hank, the driver,
called out all spots of interest along the way. And Hank had a way of
making things interesting.

"Pike's Peak," he would call out for Cliff Hill.

"The Giant's Causeway," he would announce for Rocky Turn.

And so Hank was a very popular stage driver, and never had to look for
trade--it always came to him.

"That's our coach," said Mr. Bobbsey, espying Hank. "Hello there!
Going to the beach?" he called to the sleepy driver.