Mr. Bill stopped his car dead. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "What do you mean?"
"The shark!" squealed Ka-kee-ta with another flourish of his ax.
"That's what the man we found on the porch said!" exclaimed Tessie anxiously. "What do you suppose he means?" And when Mr. Bill could not tell her she turned to Ka-kee-ta. "What do you mean, Ka-kee-ta?"
The car which had all but scraped their fender, turned a corner and was out of sight.
"The shark," mumbled Ka-kee-ta, and dropped back in his place.
"Well, I'll be darned!" muttered Mr. Bill, as he started his engine. "What did he mean? He couldn't see any shark, could he? What did he mean?"
But Ka-kee-ta refused to tell them why he had jumped up and shouted. He sulked and fiddled with his ax, and at last they left him alone.
"There are so many things I don't understand," sighed Tessie. "I—I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you to help me. Sometimes I wish the police hadn't been so quick about letting that other man go. It must mean something when two black men talk about a shark, mustn't it?" She turned a troubled face to Mr. Bill.
"They sound and look to me more like a fraternity initiation than anything else," said puzzled Mr. Bill. "Perhaps they don't mean what we mean when we say 'shark.' Perhaps 'shark' is the Sunshine Island word for hello!"