“It’s a fair-sized one, too,” observed old Captain Obed Harkness. “I mind the time I was up in the Arctic after them critters. We didn’t often git ’em bigger’n that.”
“What you fellows going to do with it?” asked Harry Dunn, who sometimes went clamming with Bob. “Gee, I wish I’d been along.”
“We’re going to sell it to the fertilizer factory,” said Andy. Then he added to his brother, in a low voice: “Hadn’t we better telephone to mother that we’re here? She may get wind of this and worry.”
“Yes, I’ll call her up,” volunteered Frank. “Then we’ll see if we can talk to someone at the fertilizer factory. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Say, why don’t you put a tent over the whale, and charge admission to see it?” asked Bert Ramsey. “You could make a lot of money. Summer visitors from Seabright and other places would like to see a real whale.”
“Couldn’t get a tent big enough without a lot of trouble,” replied Andy, as his brother hurried away. Meanwhile the crowd on the beach became larger, and there were new arrivals every second, as the news spread.
“There’s a big motor boat coming in here,” suddenly remarked Bob to Andy, as they stood near the head of the whale.
The Racer lad glanced across the darkening sea. He had a momentary idea that it might be the craft from which he and his brother had rescued Paul Gale. But a glance showed him that it was a fishing vessel, that had been fitted up with a “kicker” or small gasolene engine, the noise of which came across the bay as the craft was headed toward the spot where the whale was stranded.
“Wonder what they want?” mused Andy.
“Out of gasolene, perhaps, and need a supply,” suggested Bob. Few paid any attention to the oncoming craft, as they were too interested in looking at the whale. Frank came hurrying back, and said to his brother: