“I should say it does!” and Andy stooped over and rubbed his ankle and then gently massaged his wrist.
“Better get home and put some vaseline on it,” suggested Frank.
“Vaseline! Say, the next time I try to play a joke on anybody, please holler ‘Lobster’ at me. And if that doesn’t do any good just pinch me good and hard,” requested the younger lad.
“I told you so,” commented Frank.
“Yes, but I didn’t believe you. Let’s get home. Don’t tell mother. She’d think I’d be in for a siege of blood poisoning, and keep me in bed. I’ll be all right. But say, things have been happening lately; haven’t they?”
“I should say yes. I’m sorry we missed that strange man to-day. We might have been able to get something about Paul out of him.”
“I doubt it. However, we had a great time with the snakes and monkeys. Better not say anything about that at home, either, or dad and mom will put a stop to our sailboat if they think that something happens every time we go out in her.”
“I guess that’s right. We’ll lay low and say nothing.”
But the story got out, for the skipper of the lighter told at the dock in Seabright how two boys had come to his rescue, and the description of them fitted our heroes.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you chaps,” said their father after supper a few evenings later, as he looked at them over the top of the paper. “Seems to me you’re always doing something.” He had heard the lobster and snake stories from a friend that day.