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and Freddie went in to hide, but he dirt slid down on him and he—he's there yet!"

"Gracious!" cried Mr. Bobbsey. "It's a good thing we're here!"

With a piece of board he soon scattered the dirt until he came to Freddie's head. Fortunately the little fellow was covered with only a few inches of the soil, and as a piece of brush had fallen over his face, he had had no trouble in breathing. He was rather badly frightened, however, when he was dug out, little the worse, otherwise, for his adventure.

"What did you do it for?" asked his father, when he and his mother had brushed the dirt from the little chap, while the other children gathered around to look on.

"I—I was making a cave, same as Robinson Crusoe did," Freddie explained. "I dug it with a board in the sand, and I went in—I mean, I went in the cave, and it—it came down—all of a sudden."

"Well, don't do it again," cautioned his mother. "You might have been badly hurt."

They finished their visit on the island, and went back on board the Bluebird again. Snap,