After lunch we got under way again and ran down the shore, dodging buoys of lobsters pots, till we got to Robinson’s Hole. Up this way the folks called the little passages between islands “holes.” We ran through the passage to the Vineyard Sound, and then headed diagonally across to Martha’s Vineyard.
Catty and I sat way up forward playing checkers and talking things over.
“Well,” says I, “I guess we lifted the trouble off of Mr. Topper’s shoulders.”
“Maybe,” says he.
“How maybe?” says I.
“The cruise isn’t over yet, and we haven’t lifted that treasure, or whatever it is he’s after.”
“But we’ve got rid of the black yacht.”
“Maybe,” says he again.
“Huh,” says I.
“Wait,” says he. “They’ll go and dig where that map we gave ’em says to dig, and they won’t find anything. Then what’ll they do?”