The next morning Dotty and Dolly went with the Fayre family to breakfast in the hotel dining-room.

Very fresh and pretty the girls looked, Dolly in a pale blue linen and Dotty in pink linen with a black velvet belt.

The great dining-room was large and airy, and the sunshine and sea breeze came in at the open windows.

The Fayres' table was pleasantly placed overlooking the ocean, and Dotty's black eyes roved round the room in delighted appreciation of the surroundings.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, "there are the twin Browns! Did you know they were here, Dolly?"

"I thought they would be; they come here 'most every summer." And Dolly smiled across the room at Tod and Tad, who bobbed their heads and grinned in response.

"I'm glad they're here," Dolly went on; "it's so nice to have some one you know to start you getting acquainted."

"It won't take you long to get acquainted," said Trudy, smiling, "for all the children of your age who are here are waiting for you. I've told several that you were coming, and I expect the Brown boys have made all sorts of plans for your entertainment. We won't bathe to-day until after luncheon; you can spend the morning on the beach or go for a motor ride with me, whichever you like."

As the girls hesitated over their decision, the Brown twins came over to their table and greeted them gaily.

"Thought you girls would never get here," said Tod, though really it mattered little which of them spoke, for they were so precisely alike it was impossible to tell them apart.

"Jolly to see you again," said Tad; "do come out on the beach with us as soon as you finish your breakfast, won't you?"

"Yes," said Dolly; "I guess we won't go with you, Trude, this morning; I want Dotty to get acquainted with the ocean."

And so when the girls left the dining-room, they found not only the Browns, but several other young people waiting on the veranda to escort them down to the beach.

There were general introductions, and as they went down the long flight of the hotel steps, Dolly found herself walking beside a girl named Pauline Clifton.

Pauline was rather tall and seemed to have an air of authority. Though not exactly pretty, she was striking-looking, with brown eyes and hair and a complexion of rosy tan. She wore a white dress and a red sweater and white stockings with red shoes, and she put her hand through Dolly's arm with a decided air of possession.

"I like you already," she said, "and I'm sure we're going to be chums. Are you rich?"

The question struck Dolly as funny, and she turned to look into Pauline's face. But the brown eyes were serious, and evidently the Clifton girl wished an answer and was prepared to rate her new friend accordingly.

"No," said Dolly, returning the frank gaze; "we're not rich. We live in a small town, and we have about everything we want, but I'm sure we're not what you'd call rich. Are you?"

It would never have occurred to Dolly to ask this question, but it seemed to follow naturally after the other's.

"Oh, yes," Pauline said, "we're awfully rich. We live in New York, and my father has a yacht and lots of motor cars and everything."

"I should think you'd have your own summer home, then, and not come to a hotel."

"We have; two of them. One on Long Island and one up in the mountains. But Father takes freaks. I haven't any mother, and he jumps around wherever he feels like it. So he picked this place for August and here we are. There's only me and Carroll, that's my brother. He's that boy on ahead, with his cap on the back of his head."

"Who looks after you; your father?"

"Yes; but he isn't here much. We have a kind of a nurse-governess; that is, she used to be our nurse when we were little and she has always stayed with us. She's a funny old thing, Liza her name is, but she can manage us better than anybody else. Father tried a French governess for me and a German FraÜlein, and Carroll has a different tutor about every month, but Liza just stays on through it all. I know all about you from the Brown boys. Aren't they ducks! They told us about you before you came, and about Dotty Rose. Isn't she pretty? You're awfully pretty, too, and you two look lovely together."

Pauline rattled on, scarcely giving Dolly a chance to reply to her observations. Meantime the group had come to a standstill and were selecting a nice place on the beach to spend the morning hours.

Dotty was enchanted with her first real experience of the seashore.

She sat down in the sand with the rest, but quickly made her way to the front of the group and as near as possible to the edge of the waves in her effort to get an unobstructed view of the ocean. The surf was rolling in and the great breakers filled her with awe and delight.

"Come farther back, Dotty," Tad Brown called out, "or you'll get caught by some of those swells."

Dotty drew back just in time to escape a wetting from a big wave whose white foam rolled up the sands to her very feet.

"Isn't it wonderful!" she cried; "I could sit right here all day and never take my eyes off those waves!"

But the sight was not so novel to the others, and they talked and laughed and threw sand at each other and built forts and watched for passing steamers and made plans for future amusements.

"That's the worst of the seashore," said Pauline, discontentedly; "there's so little to do. Just walk the boardwalk or sit on the sand or bathe; that's about all."

"Nonsense, Polly," said her brother Carroll; "there's lots else to do. Going motoring or walking in the woods, and there's a bowling alley at the hotel and tennis courts—there's millions of things to do, only you're such an old grouch you never see the fun of anything."

Pauline paid no attention to this brotherly remark, but said to Dotty, "Come on, let's go for a walk; I want to get acquainted with you."

"Get acquainted here," said Dotty, laughing. "I'm too comfortable to move."

The Brown boys had banked up a big hill of sand behind Dotty, and she leaned back against it, still fascinated by the wonderful blue of the distant ocean sparkling in the sunlight and the mad onrush of the great breakers as they dashed on the shore.

"Then you come," said Pauline to Dolly; "let's go off by ourselves and walk along toward the casino and the shops.

"All right," said Dolly, who was tired of sitting on the sand and quite ready for a walk. Moreover, she was curious to know more of Pauline. She wasn't sure she should like a girl who asked her point blank if she were rich, and yet Pauline didn't seem ostentatious or vulgar, but was quick-witted and full of fun.

The two walked away, leaving the rest of the crowd, some six or eight of them, on the beach.

As the morning passed, others joined the group and some went away, but Dotty remained, still unable to tear herself away from the glorious sea.

"I say, Dot Rose," Tod Brown exclaimed, "you are stuck on that big pond, aren't you? But there are other days coming when you can gaze at it. Come on, now, and let's do something. I'll race you to the end of boardwalk."

"What's there, when you get to the end?" demanded Dotty.

"Nothing much, but some fishermen's shacks and nets and things. Come on and see it. The fishermen are a queer-looking bunch and not very good-natured, but it's fun to tease them. Come on, anyhow."

Dotty got up, somewhat cramped by long sitting, and was glad after all for a brisk walk in the sunshine. They didn't race, but swung along at a good pace, Dotty with her eyes still seaward.

Nearly at the end of the boardwalk, on a bench, was a large and handsome French doll. It was dressed as a baby, with a long white frock, a lacy cap and a knitted pink sacque.

"Oh, look at that!" cried Dotty. "I know whose it is; it belongs to that little golden-haired child at the hotel."

"That's so," said Tod. "The kiddy must have left it here. I saw her lugging it around this morning, and it was about all she could do to carry it. Shall we take it back to her?"

"Yes," said Dotty; "I'd just as lieve carry it."

"You bet you'll carry it, if either of us does. Do you s'pose I'd go round lugging a wax infant?"

"It isn't wax," said Dotty, picking it up; "it's light as a feather. It's one of those celluloid things, but I never saw such a big one before. Yes, I'll take it back to little Yellowtop. If it's left here somebody will steal it. Shall we turn back now?"

"No; come on to the end of the walk and let's have a look at the fishermen."

They went on and soon reached their destination. It was a picturesque place, but the cabins were deserted and only a few empty boats were in sight. The beach was littered with old fish nets and various sorts of rubbish, while a few piers ran out into the sea.

"Everybody's gone fishing," said Tod. "Nothing much to see here; let's go back."

"Let's go out to the end of that pier," said Dotty. "There's no danger, is there?"

"Danger? No! But nothing to see out there. Come along, though, if you like."

Good-naturedly, Tod went with Dotty along the old pier. Reaching the very end, they sat down for a few moments, their feet hanging over the edge while they clung to the uprights.

"Oh, isn't it grand!" cried Dotty, looking down into the blue water as it rippled against the piles at some distance below.

"Don't fall in," warned Tod.

"Never fear, I'm not that kind of a goose! I love it, but I'm scared to death all the time, and I keep a good grip on this rope."

"That's right. Oh, here comes a fishing-boat; see, 'way out there in the distance. We'll wait for that to get in, and then we'll go."

The two stood up, and hanging onto the ropes, leaned far over to see the boat as it came in.

A sudden breeze made Dotty cling closer to the upright she was leaning against, and as Tod put out his hand to steady her, somehow or other the big doll dropped into the water.

"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Dotty in dismay, "there goes the baby's doll! What a pity. Can we get it, Tod?"

"I don't know. If it doesn't drift the wrong way, maybe the fishermen will pick it up as they come in. If I had a hook and line I could hook it up."

"Don't lean over so far, Tod; you'll fall in," and Dotty tried to hold back the boy as he leaned over the edge of the pier. "Oh, see, there's a fisherman or somebody, coming out of that cabin. Maybe he'll bring a pole or something and help us get the doll. Ask him to."

Tod shouted at the man, who had just appeared in the cabin door. It was some distance and the boy's voice did not carry well over the breakers between them, but finally Tod succeeded in attracting the man's attention.

"Bring a pole!" Tod shouted, "or fish line. Help us!"

"Hey?" shouted the man, his hand to his ear. "What's the matter?"

"Doll overboard!" Tod yelled back, but the breeze was off shore and the man could not get the words. But he saw the two children as they pointed out on the water, and then, as he saw the big doll, he very naturally thought it was a live baby and immediately he became excited. He ran back into the cabin and returned with a boat-hook. He jumped into a boat and endeavoured to put out to sea through the breakers. But at every attempt, the waves dashed him back on the shore. Determinedly, he tried again and again, and finally succeeded in getting beyond the surf, though he was now at some distance from the pier. He began to row desperately, but made little headway toward the floating doll.

"He thinks it's a live baby!" cried Tod, roaring with laughter. "Oh, Dotty, what a joke! Keep it up! Pretend it is."

Willingly enough, Dotty caught at the idea and began wringing her hands and screaming frantically.

"Oh, save her, save her!" she yelled, tearing around the pier like a mad person, while Tod, hanging on to a post, leaned far over the water and waved his hand frantically to the boatman.

The fisherman redoubled his efforts and slowly drew nearer the floating doll, whose long white dress was whirled and tossed about in the eddy.

The boatload of fishermen which they had seen in the distance drew nearer, and the man in the row-boat communicated to them by shouts and signs and made them aware of the catastrophe.

The incoming fishermen saw the baby in the water, and saw the two children screaming and wailing on the pier, and they put forward with all speed to make a rescue.

Tod and Dotty were really doubled up with laughter, but pretended they were in agonies of grief as the two boats made desperate attempts to reach the drowning child.

"The old idiots!" exclaimed Tod; "they might know that a live baby wouldn't float around like that. It would have sunk long ago."

"Of course it would," agreed Dotty. "Won't they be mad when they get it!"

The fishermen, having had little experience with French dolls the size of live babies, assumed, of course, that it was a real child in the water, and they wasted no time in marvelling as to why it should continue to ride blithely on top of the waves. They simply put forth every effort to reach the white object, whatever it might be, but the perversity of wind and wave continued to thwart them.

At last, however, very near shore, the fishermen drew near enough to grab the doll and draw it into their boat, just as they rowed in on top of a huge breaker and beached near the pier.

Tod and Dotty ran swiftly to them, eager to see their chagrin and dismay at having rescued the doll.

The men were all out on the beach and they showed a belligerent demeanour as the children appeared.

"Ye little wretches," cried one big rawboned man, "what d'ye mean by foolin' us like that?"

His manner even more than his words were distinctly threatening, and Dotty was scared, but Tod answered him directly.

"We didn't fool you! We dropped the doll in the water by accident, and we sung out there was a doll overboard and we asked a man on shore to help us get it. If you people thought it was a live baby, that isn't our fault!"

"That don't go down!" and another man stepped forward and shook his fist at the children. "Ye know right well ye fooled us a-purpose."

"We did not!" and Dotty, her temper now aroused, stamped her foot at him. "We told the man it was a doll, but if he couldn't hear us, we couldn't help that."

"Now, now, little lady, ye know better." The big brawny fisherman came nearer to Dotty and scowled at her. "I seen you jumping around there and play-actin' like you was wild with grief! Don't deny it, now! Ye know well enough I say true!"

He glowered at Dotty, and as he came nearer to her his big fierce eyes frightened her and she quickly stepped behind Tod.

"Don't you speak to the lady like that!" the boy cried. "If you've anything to say, say it to me. I called to the man for help to get that doll out of the water. It belongs to a little friend of ours and we want to take it to her."

"Well, ye'll never take it!" and the fierce-eyed man picked up the wet and dripping doll, and with a mighty sweep of his long arm, he flung it far out to sea. The deed was merely an impulse of his angry wrath at having been fooled by the children, and he faced them with a defiant air.

"You had no right to do that!" cried Tod; "go right out in your boat and get it."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the man with a loud, boisterous chuckle. "Go out and get it, is it? Not much I'll not go out and get it! And, what's more, I'll report you two to the life-saving station people, and I'll have you arrested for false pretences."

Tod was pretty sure that this was all a bluff, but the other men gathered about and promised the same thing. So threatening were they, that Dotty was thoroughly scared, and Tod, though not really afraid of arrest, began to think that these men could make things very unpleasant for them. He knew by hearsay of the rough manners and ugly tempers of this particular lot of fishermen. He had heard stories of their dislike for the summer guests, who sometimes visited them out of curiosity and looked upon them patronisingly.

Tod realised that nothing incensed their rough natures like being made the subject of a practical joke and this, though unpremeditatedly, he and Dotty had done. He thought best to drop his indignant air and try to propitiate them.

"Oh, come now," he said; "honest Injun, as man to man, I didn't mean to fool you. We dropped the doll in the water and I yelled for help. Now, I'll own up that when you fellows seemed to think it was a live baby, we did kind of help along a little but we didn't mean any harm. S'pose I give you a dollar to forget it."

Tod spoke in a frank and manly way, and his good-natured face ought to have evoked a pleasant response. And it did from most of the men, but the fierce black-eyed one, who seemed to be the leader, was possessed of a sense of greed, and his one idea regarding the "stuck-up summer people" was to extract money from them whenever possible.

"A dollar," he said, with an unpleasant sneer; "not enough, young sir! Show us ten dollars, and we'll try to forget the insult you offered us."

"I didn't offer you an insult, and I haven't ten dollars with me, and I wouldn't pay it to you if I had!"

Tod was angry now, and his eyes blazed at the rude injustice of the demand.

But the fierce-browed man was not abashed. "You gimme ten dollars or I'll make trouble for you! If you haven't got it, you can get it. Gimme your word of honour—you look like a gentleman—to bring me that ten, and I'll promise to make no trouble."

Tod hesitated. Had he been alone, he would have refused them at once, but he felt that he had the responsibility of Dotty's welfare, and he paused to reflect. The men were very rude and uncontrolled, and Tod didn't know what further menace they might offer.

As he hesitated, the big man spoke more threateningly. "Be quick, young man; give us your word, or we'll put you under lock and key for awhile to think it over."

This speech was accompanied by growls of assent from other members of the group, and one or two stepped forward as if to carry out the suggestion.