“We might find out,” says he, “if Topper ever heard of a man named Dunn.”
“And then what?”
“Why,” says Catty, “then we’d know.”
“Know what?”
“If he’d ever heard of him,” Catty says with a grin.
Well, we loafed around some more, and then rowed back to the Albatross, and it was some row right into the teeth of the wind. Catty had rowed in, and it was my turn to row back. I kind of wondered why he volunteered to take the first turn, but I saw now. He’d figured out the wind would blow us into the dock, but it would take tough work to get us back.
“You’re a sweet one,” says I.
“What’s the matter?” says he, as innocent as a pint of cream.
“Why,” says I, “rowing in so’s I’d have to row back against this wind, and bust my spine.”
“Um,” says he, kind of satisfied with himself, “it pays to kind of keep your eyes open. But you’ll learn, Wee-wee. A few years knocking around, and you’ll learn to think it over before you take the first proposition offered you.”