Let's trace them and get the wood back." But after leading away from them for a short distance the footprints became fainter, and in a softer bit of sand disappeared altogether.
"Pshaw!" said King.

"I don't so much care about the wood, but I hate to lose the trail like this.

Let's hunt, Mopsy." "All right, but first, let's bury these apples and potatoes, or they'll be stolen, too." "Good idea!" And they buried their treasures in the nice, clean sand, and marked the place with an inconspicuous stick.
Then they set out to hunt their lost wood.

The beach, though flat and shelving at the water's edge, rose in a low bluff farther back, and this offered among its irregular projections many good hiding-places for their quarry.
And, sure enough, after some searching, they came suddenly upon three boys who sat, shaking with laughter, upon a pile of wood.
The two Maynards glared at them rather angrily, upon which the three again went off in peals of laughter.
"That's our wood!" began King, aggressively.
"Sure it is!" returned the biggest boy, still chuckling.
"What did you bring it over here for ?" "Just for fun!" "H'm, just for fun! And do you think it would be fun to carry it back again ?" "Yep; just's lieve as not.

Come on, kids!" And that remarkable boy began to pick up the sticks.
"Oh, hold on," said King.