the sound of the nine-thirty gong--it was the village fire alarm that
always sounded the hour--the scouts as well as the other merrymakers
hurried to dress. True, they had but to don stockings and pumps, but the
beach crowds scattered so quickly, it was necessary to hurry, or run the
risk of being alone with the crabs.

"Where did you put the things?" Cleo called to Grace. "I don't see them
here."

"Left them exactly against the third post from the steps, coming toward
the shoe black stand," Grace indicated.

"That would be all right on an income tax blank," sang out Cleo, after
a fruitless search, "but it does not betray the boots. They're not
here."

"Oh lands, hurry!" begged Elizabeth. "We shall be all alone with Davy
Jones or Mr. McGinty or whoever it is who janities the ocean by night.
Let's all look."

No need for this proposal for all were looking; they needed pumps and
stockings, but none could be found.

"Are you sure you left them here?" asked Louise again.

"Positive," replied Grace.

"And I saw them when I went for my bag," said Elizabeth. "I remember
now, I left the pocket flash light burning--forgot to turn it off."

"You left a light in the sand by our things!" exclaimed Cleo. "Brilliant
Betty! Well, why wouldn't the small boys walk off with them, either for
fun or profit."

"I see nothing to do but play hop scotch home," said Helen dolefully.
"And they were my best patent leathers."

"My silk stockings broke the family bank," chimed in Louise. "Mother had
just declared they would be the very last pair."

"Let's go to the pier and beg matches," suggested Isabel. "I don't fancy
skipping all the way to Third Avenue 'as is,' whatever way that may be,
but I believe it applies to any sort of goods not up to the best mark,
and with bare feet I don't feel quite par excellence."

"Still you do the Greek dances beautifully," consoled Louise. "Let us
take this philosophically. We have lost our booties and we must go home.
Now let's----" and she raced off with all the barefoot scouts after her.

Not that they minded that in the least, but the loss of silk stockings
and pumps was not a good joke, even to the jolly True Treds.

Danger of broken glass and alighting on sharp pebbles varied the
hopping, skipping and jumping, until the last scout dusted her toes and
tried to explain the bare-foot stunt to surprised relatives.

Early next morning, that portion of the beach where the clothing had
been l