THE RIDDLE CLUB AT SUNRISE BEACH
This volume tells how the club journeyed to the seashore and how they not only kept up their riddles but likewise had good times on the sand and on the water. Once they got lost in a fog and are marooned on an island. Here they made a discovery that greatly pleased the folks at home.
An American writer.
THE RIDDLE CLUB AT SUNRISE BEACH
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CHAPTER I
AN INFORMAL SESSION
"I DON'T think you ought to be fussing just because it is a little hot," Jess Larue said, scrubbing her chin with a moist and grimy handkerchief.
"A little hot!" cried Margy Williamson. "Why, last night I couldn't sleep a wink. I think last night was the hottest night we ever had in River Bend."
Fred, Margy's twin brother, pretended to fan himself.
"I never knew it to be like this before," he complained, mimicking his sister's tone. "Every year, just before the Fourth, we always have a snowstorm. I remember last year we shot off firecrackers under the snowman we built, and it was so cold not even the heat could melt the snow."
[Pg 2]
Margy sniffed and Artie Marley giggled.
"Oh, of course it's hot! But who cares?" said Polly Marley, the born peacemaker. "Think about the beach and the fun we'll have there. And just as soon as Ward comes, we'll hold our meeting."
"I don't know what can be keeping him." Jess spoke of her brother. "He can't run fast, because he is so fat, but he can hurry when he wants to. Perhaps he stayed to watch the boat come in."
It was a pleasant room in which the five children were gathered, even if it was a loft room of the Larue barn. The window was up and let in plenty of light and as much air as could be expected to circulate on a warm July day. From this window, neat gardens could be seen, and, beyond the gardens, green fields where early haymaking was already in progress.
"I'm going to finish sewing, if we have to wait forever," said Margy, moving over to the table. "Lend me your thimble, Jess?"
The room was so small that a table, a rug, and the six chairs for the members were all that could be squeezed into it. Margy, who was a good needlewoman and a little vain of her accomplishment, had a heap of soft bright green material on the table, and now she bent over this.
[Pg 3]
"What are you making, Margy?" asked Artie Marley curiously.
"Sewing the initials on my bathing suit," Margy returned. "See?"
She held up the Jersey cloth and showed the white letters "R.C." basted in place.
"How lovely!" cried Polly. "We can all have initials. That will be fun."