“Where?” asked Tom, incredulously.
“Here,” replied Dave, rooting out the articles which had no doubt appertained to the late resident’s wife or one of his grown-up daughters.
Tom examined them with the air of a detective.
“They’re women’s things,” he admitted; “but how did they get here?”
He thought a while.
“I know,” he resumed: “it was one of the beautiful captives they took out of an Indiaman. She fell in love with the captain of the pirates an’ followed ’im through thick an’ thin. All the most beautiful captives did. Then, when he was hard put, she saved the ship. Then the ship got wrecked, an’ ’e swum ashore with ’is arm round ’er neck. Half of the crew wuz drowned an’ the other half wuz saved, and they got in ’ere and built this place an’ fortified it while they wuz buildin’ a new ship outer the timber that wuz washed ashore. That’s how them things come to be ’ere.”
“But,” said Dave, “’ere’s a ole washin’ tub an’ a piece of washin’ board.”
“Well, couldn’t they ’ave come ashore out of the pirate’s ship?” asked Tom.
“I didn’t know they had washtubs an’ things like that on pirate ships,” pleaded Dave.