the alarm clock in the boys' room went off at five o'clock the next morning.

"want any errands done before breakfast?" called fred down the stairs.

fred's mother was a wise woman, and she could, as her husband often said, make the most of any situation. if the boys, who usually had to be called at least twice, were awake at five and ready to give practical help, what reason was there for waiting till eight o'clock and breakfast time?

"i wish you'd go after some eggs, fred," said mrs. williamson, perhaps a little sleepily. "get yourself some bread and butter and a glass of milk and then you can walk out to the farm and back before breakfast."

"let's go, too," whispered polly to margy.

the alarm had wakened the two girls, and now they jumped up and managed to get dressed without disturbing jess.

"are you up?" said fred, when they came into[pg 104] the kitchen where he and artie were getting their bread and milk.

"did we wake you up?" artie asked, staring round-eyed over his glass of milk.

"yes, to both questions," said polly. "we thought we'd go out to the farm with you. hand me the bread knife, please."

"where's ward?" margy demanded, pouring out a glass of milk for polly and one for herself.

"sleeping," replied fred, grinning. "he said he wasn't going to get up early when he didn't have to."

"well, i think myself it's kind of silly," margy said frankly. "what made you set the alarm for five o'clock?"

"oh, i just thought i'd feel gay this morning, and i do," declared fred. "i think the carnival makes me a little skittish."

they all laughed, recognizing one of the pet words of mrs. pepper, carrie's mother.

"come on, or we won't get back for breakfast," fred urged. "mother gave me the egg money. let's hurry."

even margy changed her mind about the silliness of an early rising hour when they stepped outside the cottage and saw the sunrise over the point of land that ran out beyond the fishing pier. a wonderful rosy glow was over the world, and[pg 105] the ocean, which had not yet begun to sparkle, lay smooth and dark.

"i can count three, four—no, seven, sails!" cried margy.

"fishing boats," fred said. "look—from here we can see eleven boats, counting the sails and hulls."

polly found another ship, barely visible, and artie picked up another and that gave them thirteen before they turned away to follow the road that would take them back into the country.

"say, i know a riddle!" exclaimed artie. "fred, why is the ocean never a lonely place?"

"why is the ocean never a lonely place?" repeated fred slowly. "because it's full of fish, i guess."

"no," drawled artie.

"i don't think that was a good answer," observed margy. "fish—horrid old things—wouldn't keep any one, not even another fish, from being lonely."

"what is the answer, artie?" said polly, after a little more thought on the part of all. "we all give up."

"the ocean is never lonely because it is always filled with old salts."

"old salts?" queried margy. "what does that mean?"

[pg 106]

"old salts are old sailors, margy," explained her brother impatiently. "and the ocean is full of salt and the old salts— well, i don't think that's a very good riddle, artie. no wonder we couldn't guess it."

"maybe not," agreed artie good-naturedly. "but lots of our riddles aren't so very good."

"i wouldn't mind getting up at this time every morning," declared fred, who seemed to be unusually energetic. "what say, artie, my lad?"

"go on, if you like," artie encouraged him. "but i am not going to get up at five o'clock every morning—not if i know it."

"it's no fun getting up alone, so i'll have to stay in bed, i suppose," said fred. "well, if i am not famous for doing a day's work before breakfast, you'll be the one to blame, artie."

the farm where mrs. williamson bought eggs was some two miles from the beach. the boys and girls were forced to walk in the middle of the road, for the grass was wet with dew. now and then a farmer's cart rattled past them, but it was too early for the truck gardeners to be out with their loads of green vegetables.

"why don't we take the riddle club dues and buy a farm with 'em?" suggested artie, as they passed a particularly well-kept place which apparently struck his fancy.

[pg 107]

"the only reason," fred returned, "is that if we took the dues out of the bank, it would collapse. i don't want to be responsible for wrecking the river bend bank—do you?"

artie giggled and shook his head.

"i guess we won't add much to the account this summer," said polly seriously. "we have the dues for the last meeting, but even if we have another meeting we won't be fussy about collecting. mother said she thought we should have our allowances to spend for vacation fun as long as we were at the beach."

"i don't care if we don't add much to the amount in the bank," fred said. "but it does get me to have the boys always planning some way to spend what we have. if ward and artie had had their way, we wouldn't have a cent to show."

"well, can't i even have ideas?" demanded the aggrieved artie. "i didn't say to buy a farm—i just asked why we couldn't."

"isn't this where we turn in?" polly suggested diplomatically.

they had reached the farm, and though margy whispered that she didn't believe the folks would be up, they found the farmer and his family at breakfast. while the "farmeress," as polly designated her, bustled around and put three dozen eggs in a pail, her husband kept urging the chil[pg 108]dren to "pull up your chairs and have a bite to eat."

"we're going to have breakfast as soon as we get home, thank you," said polly, who was generally appointed spokesman by silent consent. "and we had bread and milk before we started."

they found it a little difficult to get away, for the farmer's wife liked to talk and did not often have visitors so early in the day. when they finally were out on the road again, artie announced that he had changed his mind about buying a farm. he thought they could do better with the money saved from their club dues.

"did you hear that man?" he asked. "he said he gets up at four o'clock the year around. gee, in winter it's pitch dark at four o'clock! why, i wouldn't get up at four o'clock in winter for—for anything."

they brought tremendous appetites home with them for breakfast, but mrs. williamson was ready for them. so was jess, who scolded roundly because the other girls had not wakened her. the morning sped by on wings, for there was the prospect of a lively afternoon before them to lend zest even to the tasks of putting their rooms in order and sweeping off the porches before they went swimming.

"that's the only trouble with all these bal[pg 109]conies," margy confided to polly. "you have to sweep 'em off, just as though they were really porches. i think there is such a thing as having too many balconies."

sometimes the children sat about on the sand in their bathing suits and found the hot sun so pleasant after their baths that they over-stayed their time and one of the mothers had to come out and ring a huge old-fashioned dinner bell to remind them that it was time to come in and get dressed. however, this morning they cut their water sports short and were dressed before lunch was ready.

"i see that nothing is to prevent our trip to town this afternoon," remarked mrs. larue, smiling, as they sat down at the table. "all i ask is, please do not expect me to ride on the merry-go-round."

"we'll watch and let the youngsters do the wild things," mrs. williamson said, ladling out the delicious clam chowder she had made for them. "i dare say the carnival will be too full of motion for us."

"oh, but, mother, they have movies!" said margy eagerly. "you like moving pictures, mother! you know you do!"

"yes, i do," mrs. williamson admitted. "well,[pg 110] we can see them and then find a quiet place to sit while you investigate the rest of the carnival."

there was a neat little bus that ran from one end of the beach to the other and through the town. this passed meeker cottage on a side street, and the mothers voted to ride to the carnival grounds. as soon as the lunch dishes were out of the way, they started, and when artie saw the bus coming toward them with a huge sign fastened on the front, reading "to the carnival," he almost ran to meet it. or so fred declared.

"here it is!" cried artie, when they came in sight of the tents. "they have a band! i hear it!"

"a band does certainly affect artie," mrs. larue declared. "we'll have to watch him or he might follow it as the children did the pied piper."

artie scarcely heard what they were saying. his eyes were shining and his feet were tapping merrily and he looked so happy and so thoroughly alive that every one who passed him turned to smile.

"let's go to movies first," suggested margy. "mother likes them."

the moving pictures were shown in a large tent. it was not as large as it looked, for it was set[pg 111] over another tent, and in this darkened inner place were the seats for the people who came to see the pictures. if you think it is hard to find your way down the aisles of a dark theater—especially if you are staring at the screen as you walk, so as not to miss any of the picture being shown—you ought to try to find your way into a tent as the riddle club members and their mothers did that afternoon.

the chairs were fastened together in rows of six, and if the people in them happened to be excitable when something happened on the screen they were apt to jerk or twist about in their seats and in time this moved the rows closer together or sent them sideways. as a result, some of the rows were closed, some were open, a few were bunched so closely together that it was impossible to walk between them, and at least one row was completely overturned.

margy and polly made this discovery in a rather painful manner by falling over the chairs.

"ow—oh!" wailed margy, in the darkness. "what was that?"

"sh!" polly warned her, trying not to laugh. "we walked into something. come on."

jess grabbed margy and dragged her along in the darkness until fred managed to find them an unoccupied row of seats into which they filed.[pg 112] he had not counted enough, and he and artie found themselves "left over," as ward expressed it.

"we'll go further down," fred whispered.

"wait for us at the door, will you, when you go out?"

the others promised him to wait, and fred and artie went down the aisle, trying to find two more vacant seats.

"there's two," artie said, in a shrill whisper, and darted ahead of fred.

he slipped into a row and sat down. some one large and impressive rose and shook him from her lap as though he had been a small and troublesome lap dog.

"i sat on a lady," artie explained, rejoining fred, who laughed and guided him into another row with better success.

the moving pictures were a great success, from artie's point of view, because they displayed a wonderful raft in one of the stories. it was a trick raft, so fred insisted, but artie chose to believe that any well-constructed raft could behave as well.

"i'm going to build a raft and then you'll see," he whispered to fred.

"better let larry put in a motor for you," fred counseled him. "then you can make better speed.[pg 113] i think a motor raft would be a wonder, artie."

"i'd rather pole it along," said artie earnestly. "motor boats are always breaking down. larry had engine trouble the other day."

"when he was coming from blackberry island?" said fred. "yes, i heard about that. but larry always fixes his engine. he's a dandy mechanic."

then the people about them said "sh!" and the boys turned their attention to the picture which was delighting margy, but which did not have the appeal for fred and artie the raft picture had had, because it was, to quote them, "all girls and clothes."

ward blinked as they came out into the sunlight, after staying till the intermission.

"bet you were asleep!" jess accused him.

"i was not!" he flashed back indignantly. "but i couldn't see very well because a tall wide man sat in front of me. let's go on the merry-go-round."

"i hear it stopping now," jess cried. "we'd better hurry."