“Go ahead,” says Catty. “It’s no use to us. Mr. Topper threw it away. You’re welcome.”
“Much obliged,” says Mr. House, and right there he forgot all about what he came ashore to do, but hurried right back to his dinghy and had himself rowed back to the Porpoise.
“He bit,” says Catty. “He swallowed hook, line, and sinker. In about ten minutes we’ll see the Porpoise hauling up her anchor and making away.”
“On a wild-goose chase,” says I, “and that’s the last we’ll see of her.”
But I was just a little mistaken in that last guess.
CHAPTER V
We lay in Padanaram all that day and night. In the afternoon Catty and I went on the street car to New Bedford and saw the old whaling museum, which is one of the most interesting things in America, and looked around the town to find traces of the whalers that used to sail from the port. But there weren’t so many traces. The whaling fleets are almost done with. But we had a good time and saw lots of things.
That evening we were sitting on the deck of the Albatross and Catty says, “What are those funny riggings so many of these yachts have on them?”
“You mean that dingus sticking out in front?” says I; “the thing that looks like a bowsprit?”
“Yes,” says he.