“Let’s not,” Teena objected. “They weren’t very nice to us.”
“They didn’t mean anything,” Eddie said. “Maybe someone should tell them that the fishing is no good over the sand bar.”
“I’ll bet they found that out for themselves,” Teena said.
But Eddie already had started walking out onto the plank boat dock. Teena followed.
“Here, mister, I’ll help you,” Eddie offered as the heavy-set man removed the oars from the oarlocks and moved toward the prow of the boat.
“O.K.,” the man said, trying to keep his balance in the rocking boat. Then he glanced up. “Hey, you’re the kids we saw earlier, aren’t you? You following us or something?”
“No, sir,” Eddie said. “We were on our way home. Just thought we’d come out and see what kind of luck you had.”
“We did all right, didn’t we, Roy?” the tall man said.
“But where are your fish?” Teena asked.
“We left them in the bay,” Roy, the portly man, said.