“Sure,” repeated the man, “anything you say!”
Chase and the two sailors climbed into the rowboat and pushed off immediately. Inside of ten minutes they returned, bringing a box of food with them, and a tank of ice-water.
“How much do we owe you?” inquired Linda, taking a bill from her pocket.
“Nothin’!” answered the man. “The Captain says it’s a present, with his compliments.”
“I think that’s awfully good of him,” said Dot, lifting the lid of the box and peering hungrily inside. “And it looks like real American food, too. Biscuits—and ham—and eggs!”
“Mexican chickens lay the same kind of eggs that American chickens do,” observed Chase, dryly.
“That’ll be enough out of you!” retorted Dot, trying to look scornful, but laughing in spite of herself.
“Be sure to get something to eat for yourself, right away, Bert,” put in Linda.
“We’ll take care of that,” the sailor assured her, as the men returned to the boat.
“And come back soon!” added Dot.