lifting the
heavy plank with ease.

Bobby and Meg took possession of the see-saw, and Dot and Twaddles
made the simultaneous discovery that hay was slippery. They found this
out because Twaddles had climbed to the top of a pile of loose hay and
was intending to reach an open window when his foot slipped and he
gently slid down to the floor.

"Let me do that," cried Dot, hastily scrambling up. "Watch me, Meg."

She sat down, gave herself a little shove and neatly slid down the
side of the hay. Then Twaddles tried, and then they took turns.

Spotty appeared at the barn door, wagging his tail engagingly. He was
"part white terrier" and "part something else" Jud had told the
children, and he had one funny black spot on his back near his tail.

In less than half an hour the rain had stopped and a watery sun was
struggling through the breaking clouds.

"Bobby!" Meg thought of something so suddenly, she stopped the see-saw
with a bump that jarred poor Bobby's teeth. "What do you know about
the things we left on the raft? Geraldine will be soaked!"

"And the wings of my airplane," cried Bobby. "Why, I never thought! We
should have taken the toys off. Let's get 'em now, and maybe Linda can
dry them in the kitchen for us."

Hastily calling the twins, Meg and Bobby set off, running for the
brook. The grass was very wet and their shoes were soaked in a few
minutes. But they didn't mind that if only the toys were not damaged!

Bobby reached the brook first. No Jud was in sight, but a neat, firm
fence showed where he had completed his work. No raft was tied to the
root, either.

"It's gone!" gasped Meg, who had followed Bobby closely. "My lovely
book I've never even read yet!"

"And my airplane I meant to have such fun sailing out where there is
lots of room," said Bobby mournfully. "Dot, the raft's floated away!"

Dot and Twaddles came up to them and Dot at first could not believe
the bad news.

"But you tied it, Bobby," she urged. "How could it get gone?"

"Don't say 'get gone,'" said Bobby absently. "I don't know how it got
loose, but it has. You can see for yourself. And all our toys are
lost!"

"Poor, poor Geraldine!" sobbed Geraldine's little mother. "All
drowned! And Twaddles' Dicky bird! Maybe, couldn't Jud have them,
Bobby?" she added suddenly.

Bobby had not thought of that.

"You run and ask him," he said, "while we walk down the brook a way
and look for 'em."

CHAPTER VIII

LEARNING TO MILK