I’ll own up I was surprised and, though Catty doesn’t like to admit he’s ever surprised, I’ll bet he was, too. I’ll bet he was so surprised he almost shed his ears and that’s about as surprised as a fellow can get without going to a lot of trouble and annoyance. Right out of a clear sky those great big hands came down on the backs of our necks and hung on. Next time I crawl into a dinghy you can believe I’m going to take a peek in to see if anybody’s there.
“Wa-al,” says the man, “who be you, and what’s the idee of towin’ me out here?”
“We didn’t know you were in the dinghy,” says Catty.
“So I jedged,” says the man, kind of dry-like. “I figgered you’d be awful glad to see me when you found out I was here.”
The man never let go his hold, and there wasn’t a bit of chance to squirm away. “Calc’late I’ll hang onto you younguns,” said the man. “Act kind of slippery to me. Tide’ll drift us ashore in a minute so the’ hain’t no need for me to start up the engine. Say, what was you aimin’ to do, anyhow?”
“Nothin’ much,” says I, and I’ll admit myself that wasn’t much of an answer.
“How come you way out here?” he says.
“Sailed,” says Catty, “and while we were ashore our boat went off and left us.”
“And you was aimin’ to borrow this here dink to git back to town, eh?”
“Yes,” says Catty.