"I wish you would come, then," urged the capitalist. "You've picked up some ideas in Washington which may be of help."
"I'll be glad to come, if you feel I'm any use to you," the boy replied, flattered at this evidence that he could be of service, "I was only afraid that I'd be in the way."
Colin followed Paul and his father into the boat, where was waiting a negro as black as the proverbial black hat, a local fisherman who had taken up sponge growing, and who, while shrewd enough for a business deal, knew little about sponges.
"You were saying that the Bureau of Fisheries is going to take up sponge-farming?" the prospective buyer asked. "Do you know what success the government has had so far?"
"Enough to show that it can be done and that's
about all," the boy replied. "Before long, I think, the Bureau will have a station down on the Keys here and that will be one of the first questions they will probably take up. As I heard it put, the Bureau aims to farm every acre of water as thoroughly as every acre of land."
"That," said the capitalist, "is an ideal that gives all sorts of chances for development."
Presently the boatman stopped and, resting on his oars, said:
"Lots o' sponges hyeh, boss."
The would-be buyer took the water glass and looked through it at the bottom, but he was unaccustomed to the appearance of growing sponges and also to the use of a water glass, so that he gained little from it.