“Salt Water Sam was along,” the sailor remarked proudly to some of the questioners. “We knew what we were about.” He did not mention how near they had come to being run down.
“Did you get the whale?” asked a man of the sailor, as the boys hurried ashore and ran to the Hopkins cottage.
“We did and we didn’t,” replied the old salt.
“Well, you killed him, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
“He came ashore, dead, down the beach, a little while ago.”
“Are you joking?”
“Not a bit of it. Word to that effect just came.”
“Whoop!” yelled Sam. “I’ll get my old harpoon back. I must tell the boys. So I haven’t forgot how to throw the iron! Whoop! Shiver my timbers! I’ve killed my last whale! Hold me down, somebody!”
Salt Water Sam was dancing about in great excitement.