“Wa-al,” says the man, “who be you, and what’s the idee of towin’ me out here?”
“We didn’t know you were in the dinghy,” says Catty.
“So I jedged,” says the man, kind of dry-like. “I figgered you’d be awful glad to see me when you found out I _was_ here.”
The man never let go his hold, and there wasn’t a bit of chance to squirm away. “Calc’late I’ll hang onto you younguns,” said the man. “Act kind of slippery to me. Tide’ll drift us ashore in a minute so the’ hain’t no need for me to start up the engine. Say, what was you aimin’ to do, anyhow?”
“Nothin’ much,” says I, and I’ll admit myself that wasn’t much of an answer.
“Sailed,” says Catty, “and while we were ashore our boat went off and left us.”
“And you was aimin’ to borrow this here dink to git back to town, eh?”
“Um.... Fine doin’s. All this is fine goin’s on. Dunno what it’s all about. Chasin’ and hollerin’ and tryin’ to run off with dinks. Anyhow, I’m a-goin’ to take you in and show you to the boss.”
He kept his grip on us, and pretty soon the boat grated on the beach, and the man let out a holler, “Hey, I got a couple kids here. Come take a look at ’em.”
In about two minutes Mr. House and another man came along and turned flashlights on us. House kind of grunted.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” says the other man to Catty, but before Catty could answer, Mr. House spoke up and says, “They’re the two kids from the _Albatross_.... The ones we got the chart from.”
“So,” says the other man, whose name turned out to be Robbins. “That’s how it is, eh? What were you hiding out here for and spying on us?”
“We came out for a sail with a man that owned a cat. He charged us a dollar,” says Catty, “and then went off and left us. He acted like he was mad at the man who left us, and looked sort of simple-minded and frightened.”
“We came ashore to dig for oysters,” says Catty, “and when we went where he ought to be, he wasn’t there.”
“Dig for oysters?” says Mr. Robbins. “And where in the world did you expect to find oysters?”
“Why—up in the sand. We were told oysters grew in the sand.”
“Huh.... And what were _you_ after?” he says to me.
“They were going to roll in oysters,” Mr. House says to Mr. Robbins. “Say, don’t you know oysters aren’t good to eat for two months yet?”