"Goodness!" murmured Ruth.

"You call those eggs?" demanded Agnes doubtfully.

"And all out of one nest," cried Tess delightedly.

"Fancy!" said Ruth, much puzzled.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Neale O'Neil," said Agnes. "Don't poison us with some strange fruit."

"So they look like fruit to you, do they?" snorted Neale.

"I'll take a chance," said Luke, grinning, "if there is a yolk and a white to them."

"Put on the fry-pan with some oil in it. Get me the pepper and salt. The chef proposes to turn out some fried eggs to beat the band! How do you like 'em-sunny-side up, or turned over? State your preference, ladies and gentlemen."

He used his knife to cut the "sh.e.l.ls" of the eggs; but the yolk of each was of a deep color and it was quite evident that, no matter what kind of eggs they were, they were fresh.

"Ought to be," said Neale with confidence. "If they were not laid last night during the storm, they certainly were the night before."

"I do not understand it," said Agnes, as the first relay of eggs began to sputter in the pan. "Are there really poultry on this desert island?

What kind of hen lays such eggs?"

"A four-legged one," declared Neil promptly.

"Oh!"

Luke was chuckling again, for he had already guessed the nature of the eggs. "And a hen with no feathers, Neale?" he suggested.

"You've said it," rejoined the younger fellow.

"Oh! Oh!" cried Ruth, suddenly laughing. "And it has a sh.e.l.l."

"Mercy! Four-legged-and featherless-and a sh.e.l.l," murmured the puzzled Agnes. "There is one thing sure, we have no poultry to answer to that description at the old Corner House."

"Ah, but we are a long way from the old Corner House," said Mr.

Howbridge, likewise smiling. "You must expect different fauna-as well as different flora-in this part of the world."

"And of course, we are bound to find many wonderful things on Palm Island," Ruth declared soberly.

CHAPTER XIV

MANY NEW THINGS

After all, that was the gayest of gay breakfasts. Tess and Dot did not appreciate the gravity of the situation in any case; they were only glad to be off "that pitchy boat," as Tess proclaimed it, and there was so much on the island that was novel that the little girls could not fail to be excited and interested every moment of the time.

Besides, Tess and Dot were in Neale's secret of the eggs laid by the wonderful four-legged hen without feathers. This description of the wonder pleased the little folks very much.

"I don't see what you mean by all this mystery," declared Agnes, tasting her first fried egg gingerly enough.

Then she ate it all down very quickly, for it was now late in the morning, and she had been hungry for her breakfast.

"Isn't it all right?" demanded Neale.

"It tastes kind of-of fishy, I think," said Agnes. "But I don't mind it."

"I suppose," said Luke gravely, "that if there are hens here on the island they probably frequently dine off the sh.e.l.lfish along the sh.o.r.e.

So that would explain the flavor of these eggs."

"There's a trick somewhere," sighed Agnes. "But never mind. If these eggs are the work of legerdemain, Neale, you can wave your wand again.

I'll take another."

Ruth and the others knew by this time, of course, the nature of the eggs. But it was much fun to keep up the joke as long as Agnes, who was usually so bright, did not see through it. She said to Neale:

"Can't you take me to the hen-run and let me see your flock of biddies?

I know they must be trick hens, and I'd like to see them."

"Ahem!" murmured Neale thoughtfully. "You want to look a gift egg in the mouth, do you?"

"No. I want to look these hens in the beak," declared Agnes.

"And you can do that, by ginger!" crowed Luke, suddenly falling over on the sand in a paroxysm of laughter.

"'Look 'em in the beak' is good!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Neale. "Yes, you may do that, Aggie. But-let me think--"

"Don't think if it is going to strain anything," said Agnes scornfully.

"There is only one time in the whole twenty-four hours when you can be sure of doing that," continued Neale O'Neil, with perfect soberness.

"For goodness' sake!" exclaimed his girl friend. "Now you are carrying the thing too far. Only one hour in the twenty-four when the hen that laid these eggs is to be seen?"

"You have put it pretty near right," declared Neale. "Isn't that so, Mr.

Howbridge?"

"I believe so, Neale. At about sunrise, isn't it?"

"Pretty near that," agreed Neale. "I'll wake you up when the time comes and show them to you, Agnes."

"Of course, they are some seabird-Oh, no! That can't be!" she cried.

"For seabirds have feathers."

"You had better not undertake to strain your mind, Aggie," advised Neale. "Wait until the proper time."

Agnes tossed her head again at that and refused to show any further interest in the mystery. Besides, there was so much to do just as soon as breakfast was over that they could not chatter any more about the eggs.

The sky was fleckless by this time and it did not seem possible that another storm could come up. But remembering how quickly and unexpectedly the tempest of the afternoon previous had broken, Mr.