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thought Downy must be a odd duck if he looked that way, but, of course, he did not question Freddie’s description.

      “Here, Downy, Downy!” called Freddie, as they came to the little stream where the duck always swam around. But there was no duck to be seen.

      “Where is he?” Freddie asked, anxiously.

      “Maybe back of some stones,” ventured Harry. Then he and Bert joined in the search, but no duck was to be found.

      “That’s strange,” Bert reflected. “He’s always around here.”

      “Where does the lake run to?” Harry inquired.

      “Into the ocean,” answered Bert; “but Downy never goes far. There’s Hal now. We’ll get in his boat and see if we can find the duck.”

      Hal, seeing his friends, rowed in to the shore with his father’s new rowboat that he was just trying.

      “We have lost Freddie’s duck,” said Bert. “Have you seen him anywhere?”

      “No, I just came out,” replied Hal. “But get in and we’ll go look for him.”

      “This is my Cousin Harry I told you about,” said Bert, introducing Harry, and the two boys greeted each other, cordially.

      All four got into the boat, and Harry took care of Freddie while the other boys rowed.

      “Oh. I’m afraid someone has stoled Downy,” cried Freddie, “and maybe they’ll make—make—pudding out of him.”

      “No danger,” said Hal, laughing. “No one around here would touch your duck. But he might have gotten curious to see the ocean. He certainly doesn’t seem to be around here.”

      The boys had reached the line where the little lake went in a tunnel under a road, and then opened out into the ocean.

      “We’ll have to leave the boat here,” said Hal, “and go and ask people if Downy came down this way.”

      Tying up the boat to a stake, the boys crossed the bridge, and made their way through the crowd of bathers down to the waves.

      “Oh, oh!” screamed Freddie. “I see him! There he is!” and sure enough, there was Downy, like a tiny speck, rolling up and down on the waves, evidently having a fine swim, and not being in the least alarmed at the mountains of water that came rolling in.

      “Oh, how can we get him?” cried Freddie, nearly running into the water in his excitement.

      “I don’t know,” Hal admitted. “He’s pretty far out.”

      Just then a life-saver came along. Freddie always insisted the life-guards were not white people, because they were so awfully browned from the sun, and really, this one looked like some foreigner, for he was almost black.

      “What’s the trouble?” he asked, seeing Freddie’s distress.

      “Oh, Downy is gone!” cried the little fellow in tears now.

      “Gone!” exclaimed the guard, thinking Downy was some boy who had swam out too far.

      “Yes, see him out there,” sobbed Freddie, and before the other boys had a chance to tell the guard that Downy was only a duck, the life-saver was in his boat, and pulling out toward the spot where Freddie said Downy was “downing”!

      “There’s someone drowning!” went up the cry all around. Then numbers of men and boys, who had been bathing, plunged into the waves, and followed the life-saver out to the deeper water.

      It was useless for Harry, Hal, or Bert to try to explain to anyone about the duck, for the action of the life-saver told a different story. Another guard had come down to the beach now, and was getting his ropes ready, besides opening up the emergency case, that was locked in the boat on the shore.

      “Wait till they find out,” whispered Hal to Bert, watching the guard in the boat nearing the white speck on the waves. It was a long ways out, but the boys could see the guard stop rowing.

      “He’s got him,” shouted the crowd, also seeing the guard pick something out of the water. “I guess he had to lay him in the bottom of the boat.”

      “Maybe he’s dead!” the people said, still believing the life-saver had been after some unfortunate swimmer.

      “Oh, he’s got him! He’s got him!” cried Freddie, joyfully, still keeping up the mistake for the sightseers.

      As the guard in the boat had his back to shore, and pulled in that way, even his companion on land had not yet discovered his mistake, and he waited to help revive whoever lay in the bottom of the boat.

      The crowd pressed around so closely now that Freddie’s toes were painfully trampled upon.

      “He’s mine,” cried the little fellow. “Let me have him.”

      “It’s his brother,” whispered a sympathetic boy, almost in tears. “Let him get over by the boat,” and so the crowd made room for Freddie, as the life-saver pulled up on the beach.

      The people held their breath.

      “He’s dead!” insisted a number, when there was no move in the bottom of the boat. Then the guard stooped down and brought up—Downy!

      “Only a duck!” screamed all the boys in the crowd, while the other life-saver laughed heartily over his preparations to restore a duck to consciousness.

      “He’s mine! He’s mine!” insisted Freddie, as the life-saver fondled the pretty white duck, and the crowd cheered.

      “Yes, he does belong to my little brother,” Bert said, “and he didn’t mean to fool you at all. It was just a mistake,” the older brother apologized.

      “Oh, I know that,” laughed the guard. “But when we think there is any danger we don’t wait for particulars. He’s a very pretty duck all the same, and a fine swimmer, and I’m glad I got him for the little fellow, for likely he would have kept on straight out to smooth water. Then he would never have tried to get back.”

      The guard now handed Downy over to his young owner, and without further remarks than “Thank you,” Freddie started off through the crowd, while everybody wanted to see the wonderful duck. The joke caused no end of fun, and it took Harry, Hal, and Bert to save Freddie and Downy from being too roughly treated, by the boys who were over-curious to see both the wonderful duck and the happy owner.

      CHAPTER XII

      Real Indians

      “Now we will have to watch Downy or he will be sure to take that trip again,” said Bert, as they reached home with the enterprising duck.

      “We could build a kind of dam across the narrowest part of the lake,” suggested Hal; “kind of a close fence he would not go through. See, over there it is only a little stream, about five feet wide. We can easily fence that up. I’ve got lots of material up in our garden house.”

      “That would be a good idea,” agreed Bert. “We can put Downy in the barn until we get it built. We won’t take any more chances.” So Downy was shut up in his box, back of the donkey stall, for the rest of the day.

      “How far back do these woods run?” Harry asked his companions, he always being interested in acres, as all real country boys are.

      “I don’t know,” Hal Bingham answered. “I never felt like going to the end to find out. But they say the Indians had reservations out here not many years ago.”

      “Then I’ll bet there are lots of arrow heads and stone hatchets around. Let’s go look. Have we time before dinner, Bert?” Harry asked.

      “I guess so,” replied the cousin. “Uncle William’s train does not get in until seven, and we can be back by that time. We’ll have to slip away from Freddie, though. Here he comes. Hide!” and at this the boys got behind things near the donkey

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