“Did you got dot biece uf bie, Vrankie?” he asked.
“What piece of pie?”
“Why, der von I toldt you to put your bocket indo.”
“I haven’t seen any pie, and I am back here to be fed.”
“Shimminy Gristmas! vot vos der madder mit you, ain’d id?” squawked the Dutch boy. “You don’d vant to ate der crub vot vos on poard this yocht uf ven you can got a sqvare meal der shore on, do I?”
“You didn’t suppose I would eat on shore and leave you here to wear your teeth out on canned stuff and hard bread, did you? Well, I am not that kind of a chap. What is good enough for you is good enough for me.”
“Py shimminy! I nefer looked at heem dot vay in pefore. You peen all righd, Vrankie, und I abbreciate your thoughtfulness-ness us of. Subber vill peen retty as soon as I can got id.”
Then Hans hurried below.
“He is satisfied now,” said Hodge. “You fixed him all right, Frank.”
The water of the harbor was as smooth as glass, for the afternoon breeze had died out with the declining of the sun. The deck awning had been erected on the yacht while Frank was absent, and Hans brought up the folding table and spread it beneath the awning.