“Wow!” says he, startled, and he kicked out like he thought a shark was trying to eat him.
“Wow yourself,” says I, and then he twisted his arm away and slipped into the water and began to swim like all git out.
“What’s the hurry, Mister?” says Catty, but he didn’t answer a word.
Catty and I scrambled up the ladder and rubbed down as quick as we could and got into our clothes.
“Well,” says Catty, “I guess we kind of scairt him.”
“He acted so.”
“And he didn’t find out anything, either.”
“Neither did we.”
He looked at me kind of pitying and says, “Oh, we didn’t, eh. How about finding out they really were following us? How about finding out one of them wasn’t sure Topper was aboard? How about making certain they really are some kind of pirates, and don’t mean us any good? Pretty fair night’s work, seems to me.”
“Guess that’s right,” says I, “but now we know it, what do we do?”