id look too absurd, with more
than a foot of the brocade waistcoat dangling below the sash, the
end of which trailed on the ground behind.

It gave us a queer, wild feeling, being there without the grown-ups,
and we decided to tell them that as we'd proved we could do it, we
might go again. We never did tell them that, as it happens.

We all grew hungry so soon that we had lunch much earlier than the
grown-ups would have had it. The food Katy had fixed was wonderful,
though rather squashed on account of all the costumes being
on top of it in the kit-bag. While we ate we organized the
Submerged-City-Seeking-Expedition. Jerry was "Terry Loganshaw," in
charge of the party, and I was "Christopher Hole, shipmaster," and
Greg was "Baroo, the Madagascar cabin-boy," because we couldn't
think of what else he could be, with such clothes.

We tidied up all the picnic things so that there was nothing left,
and put the root-beer bottle into the kit-bag, because it was a good
one with a patent top. The kit-bag we took with us for duffle, and
we set off for the point. We went by the longest way we could think
of, to make it seem like a real expedition,--'cross country and back
again. Jerry led us through the scratchy, overgrown part of
Wecanicut, and we pretended that it was a long, weary _trek_ through
the most poisonous jungles to the coast of Peru; and when Greg
walked right into a spider's web with a huge yellow spider gloating
in the middle of it, he said he'd been bitten by a tarantula. We
told him that we should have to leave him there to die, for we must
press on to the sea, but he cured himself by eating a magic
sweet-fern leaf and came running after us, tripping over his sash.
The _trekking_ took a long time, and when we reached the end of the
point we were quite exhausted and flung our weary frames down on the
tropic sand to rest. All at once Jerry clutched my arm and said:

"Look yonder, Hole! Does not yon strange form appear to you like the
topper-most minaret of a sunken tower?"

He was pointing at the Sea Monster, and it really did look much more
like a rough sort of dome than a monster's head. There was a lot of
haze in the air, which made it look bluish and mysterious instead of
rocky.

"It do indeed, sir," I said. "Could it be that city we be seeking?"

"Would that we had a boat!" said Greg, which might have been quite
proper if he'd been somebody else, instead of Baroo.

We'd been sprawling on the sand aga