“An’ when a body’s through an’ comin’ up a body must jump off an’ swing out on the line,” supplied Getty. “Want to see it?”
“No, thanks,” Tom assured him. “I’ve seen enough, if there’s anything worse I’ll take your word for it.”
As the boys walked back towards the Potter home, the two islanders told many a story of their life and while Tom and Jim could not understand how any civilized people could be content to dwell in the place year after year, yet they admitted that there was a fascination about the island life.
Cap’n Pem was still at the cottage and welcomed the boys vociferously.
“Was jes’ a-tellin’ Lem ’bout you two scallywags,” he cried. “What ye been up to now? Egging, eh? Well, fresh eggs is allers mighty good. What’s that? Let these two kids o’ Hen’s stump ye! Didn’t the skipper tell ye every one on Tristan’s a goat! Jes’ the same, I’ll bet ye can lick ’em at navigatin’! How about it, boys?”
“Reckon they could,” admitted Paul. “Us can use a sextant though. Dad taught us.”
“I’ve been a-swappin’ yarns with Lem ever since I got here,” chuckled the old whaleman. “When two ol’ sailormen git to gammin’ arter thirty year there’s a tarnation lot to chin erbout. Derned if I hadn’t jes’ been tellin’ ’bout the Hector’s crew o derelicts. Thought Lem’d bust hisself a-laffin’ ’bout havin’ a mate an’ bo’sun both with timber legs an’ a dummy an’ a one-eyed chap aside. Reg’lar home fer cripples, eh?”
“Shucks!” laughed the old islander. “Ye be’nt no cripple, Pem Potter. Why, I sw’ar to goodness, ye’re a better man an’ mate wi’ one leg than many a body wi’ twain. Aye, if ye had none at all ye’d still be middlin’ hard to beat. ’Tis the head an’ heart that makes a body a man, lad, not the legs.”
Then, turning to Tom and Jim, he continued, “Pem tells me ye laddies are main daft o’er yarns o’ the sea. Did he e’er tell ye o’ how he lost his leg?”
“No, sir,” replied Tom promptly. “We never asked him about it.”