“Guess we’ll drop our hook as far from her as possible,” says Mr. Browning, and that is what we did—keeping out of the channel where the steamers from New Bedford come in, so as not to get ourselves run down.
“Well,” says Catty, “here we are, and there they are.”
“And over yonder,” says I, pointing with my thumb, “is the treasure.”
“I’ll bet you a fish,” says Catty, “that we get it and they don’t.”
“All I ask,” says Mr. Browning, “is that you don’t make any more plans for anything till you tell me what they are.”
“I won’t,” says Catty; and then, after a pause, “if I can help it.”
But as things turned out, he couldn’t help it.
CHAPTER VII
It was likely the Porpoise had been there all night and that day. If she had run directly across from New Bedford she must have been in Nantucket that long, anyhow, and Catty and I wondered if our friend House had done any digging for the treasure yet. While we were talking about it a catboat sailed close by to take a look at us, and Catty sung out to her.
“Say,” he says, “when did that black yacht come in?”