"I mean some one who is a firebug!"

"Oh, come now," teased Louise. "I don't believe you are as sensational
as that, Grace. Firebugs don't grow in the ocean, like crabs. Just see
that funny crab trying to get in your slipper. You don't suppose he can
write notes, and start fires, do you?"

"And here's another sort of monster," called Cleo, who was poking in the
sand near the edge. "I believe this fellow could do most anything if he
had the tools. Just look! Isn't he horrid looking?"

"Ugh!" exclaimed Grace, "I'm glad I never eat fish!"

"That's a skate," explained Louise. "No one eats that sort of fish.
Isn't he ugly?" and a determined thrust with her beach stick (a piece of
bamboo salvaged from the drift wood), sent the dead monster out into the
deep.

"If I had a pencil, I would put an answer to that letter in the bottle,"
proposed Cleo. "We might get a lot of fun out of it."

"And we might also get a visit from friend fire-bug," cautioned Grace.
"And I don't know whether our cottage is insured or not. But I do know
it has lovely furniture and mother says it's a perfect joy to come into
a house, all spick and span without having to do the spicking. No, Cleo,
please don't invite the Weasle to call."

"I have a tiny dance card pencil," offered Louise. "Let's write a note
just for fun. Of course, no one will ever find it."

Cleo ran up the sand to the board walk where bits of paper could be seen
flying in the early summer breeze. She returned, presently, with a piece
suitable for their pirate message.

"Let's write a scary answer," she proposed. "Here, I'll say 'Wild
Weasle, take heed! We have seen your sign and will return for
vengeance!' Signed 'The Pirates!' There!" she concluded. "If any
fire-bug finds that maybe he will take heed. Where's the bottle?"

Louise produced the erstwhile soda water container, and into this the
girls' letter was poked, with the poke-string left out at the cork, as
per sample.

"We're beginning early," said Cleo. "Louise, I'm glad you know the
beach. You may save us from disaster, although we have had so many
experiences first out at Flosston, then last summer at Bellaire. I
suppose, like trouble, adventure is bound to come to those who seek it.
Now, we are all ready. Have the right shoes on the right feet, have
buried our Pirate Threat, and so let's go back home. I'm just crazy to
show you the love of a cottage we have."

"I thought ours was the very prettiest," said Grace