"Now I'll take Dot and Twaddles, and you and Meg hold hands," said Jud, as he stepped into the water. "Come on, Pirates, let's board yonder frigate."
The children giggled and stepped gingerly after Jud. They were glad he had come with them, for the mild little brook looked like a river to them as they got out into the middle of it.
"What do you suppose that is over there?" said Bobby. "I wish it was buried treasure. I never found any buried treasure."
"Maybe it is Indians," Meg suggested a little fearfully.
"With a flag of truce?" said Jud, understanding at once. "Well, Meg, I don't believe we have any Indians around here."
He made a dive for Dot and saved her from slipping, but she wasn't a bit grateful.
Before Bobby could tell her that crabs didn't live in brooks, they had reached the piece of swamp land and all four children rushed for the fluttering bit of white which had attracted Bobby's attention.
"Why, it's a shirt!" said Twaddles in great disappointment.
Whatever he had expected to see, it certainly wasn't a shirt and he felt cheated. Jud had to laugh at the queer expression on his face.
Meg, however, did not laugh. She was eyeing the shirt closely and Jud saw that she had something on her mind. Perhaps Meg was his favorite among the children, if he had a favorite. He had once told Linda that Meg was a "regular little woman" and indeed, quiet as she was, she often saw things that other people did not notice.
"Jud," she said now, "that shirt hasn't any buttons on it and the pocket is ripped. And Linda brought her sewing basket."
Bobby looked at his little sister as though he thought she was losing her mind.
"What's a sewing basket got to do with it?" he demanded.
"It needs mending," said Meg soberly. "Maybe the man who washed it hasn't any needle and thread."
The twins declared that everyone had needle and thread, but Jud rather spoiled their argument by announcing that he had none.
"I can't sew, so what good would needle and thread do me?" he asked them.
Meg, forgetting the shirt for a moment, asked him what he did when buttons came off his clothes.
"My mother sews them on again," said Jud, "and Mother darns my socks and Mother mends the rips I get in my coats."
"There, you see!" Meg cried triumphantly. "This man hasn't any mother to sew buttons on him."