There was no time to think of wet garments as Nancy raced after Ted toward the sand dunes.

“Quick,” he urged. “They’re the little fellows, Billy and Jack, and they must be under the sand.”

Just beyond the trees and undergrowth that surrounds Oak’s Pond, a stretch of sand hills offered the youngsters an ideal playground. A few scrubby pines managed to draw from the dry soil enough vitality for a very much impoverished growth, and it was from the direction of the trees that the feeble call was now heard, at protracted intervals.

“There!” pointed out Ted. “There’s the shack. They must be in a cave-in near it.”

His surmise proved correct, for quickly as brother and sister could reach the spot, they found every evidence of a cave-in and a sand deluge.

“We’re here,” Ted called. “That you Billy?”

“Oh, yeah,” came a pitiful little squeak. “We’re smoth-rin’ to death. Quick—please—quick.”

“There’s a board,” Ted ordered, at once taking charge of the rescue. “You can dig with that, Nan. I’ll dig with my hands.”

Exactly like a very eager dog that digs with all fours when he wants to get in or out of a pit, Ted went to work. The light sand flew in clouds as he pawed and kicked, so that compared with his efforts Nancy’s board-shovelling seemed provokingly slow.

“Oh, this is no good!” she finally burst out. “I can do that, too,” and without a thought but for the rescue, Nancy dropped to the position Ted was working in, and was soon digging and kicking until her clouds of sand rivalled his.

“Oh! Oh!” came repeated calls and groans. “We—can’t—breathe. Move the board! It’s pressing—”

“We’re coming. We’re coming,” Nancy called back. “Don’t get frightened; you can’t smother now.”

But it was not easy to reach the imprisoned youngsters, for a collapsed sand hill is as slippery to control as a rushing water fall. Every time the rescuers thought themselves within reach of a board, an avalanche of sand would tumble upon it and bury the end they tried to grasp.

At last Nancy grabbed hold of a big stick that protruded from the hill.

“Here Ted,” she called. “Get this! It’s under a board—”

Raising the stick carefully they did, at last, lay hold of one of the collapsed boards, the “roof” under which the youngsters had been caught.

“Care-ful,” warned Ted. “Raise it! Don’t pull it out!”

It was heavy, for sand pressed itself into great weight, in spite of its infinitesimal atoms. At last the rescuers were able, with care and skill, to raise the board, then another, until finally the bare feet of two small badly frightened boys, led directly to the entire persons of the same little victims.

“Oh my! Mercy me!” gasped Nancy. “They do look awful, Ted! Quick let’s get them water!”

“Jack is the worst,” replied her brother. “Nan, see if your skirt is wet yet. You could squeeze a little water on his face—”

The garment that had been dripping a few minutes before was still damp enough to permit of being “squeezed,” and standing over the pale face of little Jack Baker, Nancy managed to extract some drops at least, to coax back life into the almost unconscious boy.

Billy dragged himself out, although he was barely able to do so, and as quickly as little Jack showed signs of life, Ted and Nancy between them carried him down to the water’s edge.

They were just about to bathe his face and hands when a canoe drifted into sight around the cove.

“Mr. Sanders!” called Ted. “There’s Mr. Sanders,” he repeated, and his voice was reaching the occupant of the canoe, for the bark was now headed directly for land.

First aid and other common sense treatment was soon being administered to both Billy and Jack by Mr. Sanders, Ted and Nancy, and when the cave-in victims were finally entirely resuscitated, it was decided that Mr. Sanders should carry them up stream in his boat, and so enable them to easily reach their homes, at the head of the pond.

“You’ve been having some experience this morning,” the man remarked to Nancy as he waited for the boys to climb in the big long boat. “Can’t I give you and Ted a lift too? There’s room enough if everybody obeys canoe rules,” he said pleasantly.

“Oh, that would be fine,” Ted replied, while Nancy was thinking of what to say. “Sis fell in the pond after her fishing tackle,” Ted added. “That was our first adventure.”

“That must be what I picked up,” interrupted Mr. Sanders pointing out Nancy’s pole with the cord wound around it, lying in the bottom of the boat.

“Yes, that’s mine,” admitted Nancy, “and I’m glad to get it back for it was a special pole—one I got for a premium from a Boston store,” she explained.

“Well, pile in,” ordered Mr. Sanders, “and you little 'uns’ had best not frighten your folks with the cave-in story,” he warned. “Better to be careful next time,” he finished laughingly.

When all were securely ensconced in the long, graceful bark, Nancy was given the extra paddle and allowed to ply it alongside Mr. Sanders. In the joy of that unusual privilege, (for she was seldom allowed in a canoe,) the accidents were quickly lost thought of, even Jack and Billy venturing to trail their fingers in the stream, while Ted sitting in the stern took chances on throwing out his line now and then just for the fun of feeling it pull through the quiet waters.

As they sailed along, conversation was rather scattered, consisting mainly of snatches of questions and answers between Nancy and Mr. Sanders. The two little boys had scarcely spoken since their rescue, and now within sight of home, they were just beginning to assume normal courage.

Suddenly Nancy started to titter. There was no apparent cause for her change of mood, but the more she bit her lip, looked out toward shore, bent her head toward her paddle and otherwise strove to divert herself, the more the titter gathered and broke into a laugh, over her helpless features.

“Funny, isn’t it?” remarked Mr. Sanders drolly.

“Silly, but I just can’t help laughing,” she admitted. “It’s at the idea—”

“I wonder if I couldn’t guess,” interrupted the man with the strong brown arms. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” admitted Nancy, slowly.

“And about—about my supposed magic powers.” He stopped and enjoyed a light laugh himself. “Wouldn’t it be tragic if I should disappear just now?” he said so suddenly, that Nancy jerked her paddle out of the water and stared at him with a sort of guilty flush.

“The idea—” she faltered.

“Ha, ha, ha!” roared the big man swinging toward the shore where Jack and Billy were to land. “That’s a great story, isn’t it? But I’ll tell you,” he lowered his voice in a tone of confidence, “I am altogether to blame for that fantastic yarn, but sometimes we have to let folks guess even if they do make—spooks out of us.” He laughed again and even the little boys were now being tempted to join in. “But I want to promise you and your brother this, Nancy,” he said seriously. “You shall be among the first to know the answer to the riddle of my magic disappearance around the gray stone house.”

“Thank you,” Nancy managed to say, as Ted caught a strong little branch on shore, and helped land the canoe.