“I didn’t say nothin’ about ‘poison things,’” replied Ethan, gruffly. “I was talkin’ about pies. Ye know what pie is, don’t ye?”
“I do that,” replied Bob. “It’s something I have never had enough of yet.”
“I should think ye ought to get enough, if ye have it three times a day.”
“Three times a day! I never have it but once, and then in small doses.”
“Sho! I know better. All folks always have it reg’lar three times a day. Why, I shouldn’t feel as if I’d had my breakfast if I hadn’t had a piece o’ pie and a doughnut along with it.”
“Ethan,” said Bob, soberly, “do you take summer boarders at your house?”
“No, I don’t. We did take some one time, but we’ll never do it again.”
“Why not?”
“Why, do you know,” said Ethan, in a low voice, as if he was imparting a secret, “some o’ those folks bothered us dreadful. Yes, sir; they did, for a fact. There was one o’ the men we couldn’t get eout o’ bed before six o’clock in the mornin’. What d’ye think o’ that? Yes, sir, he’d actually lie in bed till six o’clock in the mornin’! But we must get out o’ this if we’re to do any more fishin’ to-day. Come, Tom, help me clear away these dishes.”
That task was speedily accomplished, and then the sport was resumed. A fair degree of success attended their efforts, and as the sun began to sink low in the western sky, Goose Bay was abandoned for the time being, and the two skiffs were headed for the camp on Pine Tree Island.