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“Then that’s the last of your Plush Bear,” said Arthur’s father. “But don’t cry!” he told the little boy. “I’ll get you another. Don’t cry! There is salt water enough around here without your adding to it by your tears!” he laughed. But Arthur felt too unhappy to laugh.

And all this while Mr. Bruin was floating on the waves.

“This is certainly the strangest thing that ever happened to me,” thought the Plush Bear. “I thought surely my end had come when Arthur dropped me. But, though I am all wet outside, I seem to be dry inside.”

On and on floated the Plush Bear; then, all of a sudden, he heard voices talking. The voices were those of men and children, and not the voices of toys.

“Don’t you like it here, Joe?” asked a boy.

“Yes, I do, Herbert,” was the answer. “And my Nodding Donkey likes it, too.”

“My Monkey on a Stick is having fun, and he isn’t seasick a bit,” said the boy who had been called Herbert. “He loves to ride in a motor boat, my Monkey does.”

“What’s this? What’s this!” thought the Plush Bear. “Nodding Donkey? Monkey on a Stick?”

He tried to raise himself in the water to look toward the place whence came the voices, but the Plush Bear could see nothing. A moment later, though, he heard one of the boys call:

“Oh, look! What’s that floating in the water?”

“It’s a fish!” said the other boy.

“That isn’t a fish! It’s some sort of floating toy,” was the answer in a man’s voice. “Well, I declare, it’s a Teddy Bear!”

“I’m not a Teddy Bear at all,” said Mr. Bruin to himself; “but if you rescue me from the water you may call me anything you wish.”

A moment later, after he had been afloat for some hours, the Plush Bear felt himself being lifted from the sea, and in another second he was placed in the bottom of a motor boat. In the boat were two men and two boys, but when the water had run out of his eyes the Plush Bear was more interested in looking at two other toys which were also in the boat.

On one seat was a Nodding Donkey who seemed to be bowing in a most pleasant and jolly fashion to the Plush Bear. And on the other seat, beside a boy, was a Monkey on a Stick.

“Oh, I have heard of these toys,” thought the Plush Bear. “They, too, were once in the shop of Santa Claus! Oh, how glad I am! I’m saved at last!”

“Where do you suppose this Plush Bear came from?” asked Joe, the boy who had the Nodding Donkey.

“I think he must have fallen overboard out of some boat when some children were being given a ride, just as you boys are having a ride,” said the father of Herbert. Herbert, you know, owned the Monkey on a Stick.

“I wish I could keep that Plush Bear,” softly said Joe. “Now that I’m not lame any more I could run around and have fun with him.”

“It is a very nice Plush Bear,” said Mr. Richmond, Joe’s father, as he examined the wet toy. “Some little boy or girl will be glad to get it back. It doesn’t seem to be much harmed.” He wound up the spring and at once the Plush Bear began to move his paws, wag his head, and growl. The growl was a trifle rusty and a bit gritty from the sand still inside the works, but that did not matter.

“We’ll take the Plush Bear back to shore with us,” said Joe’s father. “Perhaps some children stopping at one of the hotels, or even at our own hotel, may claim this toy. We must find out. I’ll put the Bear on his back in the sun so he’ll dry.”

“And I’ll put my Nodding Donkey back there, too, so Mr. Bruin won’t be lonesome,” offered Joe.