"I wonder to whom it belongs."

"There's a name printed on it over here," said Bunny, pointing to the
side of the box turned away from shore.

"What does it say?" asked Mrs. Slater, for she could not look without
stepping into the water.

"There's an F and an R and an A and an N and a K," said Bunny slowly.

"That spells Frank," said Mrs. Slater. "What else is there?"

Bunny spelled out the rest of the name, and also an address.

"Well, then it would seem this box belongs to a Mr. Frank Ravenwood of
Sea Gate," said Harry's mother. "Is there anything else on that side,
Bunny?"

"No'm," he answered.

"Frank Ravenwood, of Sea Gate," went on Mrs. Slater. "Where is Sea Gate,
Bunny?"

"It's on the coast, just down below where we live," was the answer.

"Then we can write and tell Mr. Ravenwood of Sea Gate that we have his
box that was washed ashore," went on Harry's mother. "But we must get it
higher up on the beach or it will wash away again. I wonder----"

But she suddenly stopped, for Sue gave a cry of alarm and pointed toward
shore.

"Oh, look!" exclaimed the little girl. "Look!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE SURPRISING LETTER

Mrs. Slater was so interested in looking at the strange box which had
been washed up on shore, and was thinking so deeply about the name of
Frank Ravenwood which Bunny spelled for her that, for the moment, she
did not quite understand what Sue meant.

"What is it, Sue?" she asked the little girl, for Sue kept on pointing
toward something behind Mrs. Slater.

"The tide!" exclaimed Bunny's sister. "The tide's coming up and it's
washing over the sand and we're on an island! We can't get back lessen
we wade!"

Mrs. Slater gave a startled cry, and looked toward where Sue pointed.

Surely enough, while they had been watching the box and while Bunny and
Harry had been getting it to shore the tide had risen and now covered
part of the strip of sand on which they had all walked out. As Sue said,
it was an island, and the only way to get to shore was to wade.

"I'm going to take off my shoes and stockings!" cried the little girl,
hopping up on the box and beginning to loosen her laces. "You'd better
take off your shoes, too, Mrs. Slater. If you don't you'll get your feet
wet when you have to wade to shore. Course you haven't got your mother
here to scold you if you get your shoes wet, but maybe your husband
mightn't like it," went on Sue. "You can wade same as I can."

"We don't have