“I’m going to,” says he. “I’ve been studying the chart of these waters, and it ought to be easy to give them the slip. Over across there are a lot of islands, and harbors and channels to fiddle around in. Off at the end is Penikese Island where the Leper colony is, and next is Cuttyhunk, and the chart shows a little land-locked basin that you get into through a sort of canal. I bet if we could manage to duck in there, nobody could see us from outside. Then there’s Robinson’s Hole and Wood’s Hole, and farther up the bay are inlets and things. Then, once we get through one of the Holes, we’re in Vineyard Sound, and across that is Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket. I’d say this was a part of the coast made on purpose to hide in.”
“Suits me,” says I, “let’s hide.”
“Yes,” says he, “but the Porpoise won’t blind and be it while we hide. If we could get them to count up to a couple of thousand while we find a place to hide, it would be all right.”
“Might ask ’em,” says I.
“Wish they’d run on a sandbar,” says he.
“But they won’t,” says I.
“No chance. So we’ve got to plan it. We’ve got to fix it so we can go while they’ve got to stay. They’re pirates, aren’t they? Well? It’s fair and lawful to do anything to pirates.”
“Sink ’em,” says I.
“Guess we hadn’t better go that far,” he says with a grin, “but there’s something we can do. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ll find out.”
“What,” says I, “do you s’pose they’re after? What has Mr. Topper got that they want?”