"What do you mean?" asked Frank.
"Well, you know what happened when we followed that old man on Pine Island. He pushed us over a cliff into a snow bank."
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Bob.
"What's the matter?" demanded Sammy. "I don't see anything to laugh at."
"You don't? Well, there's no snow bank, for one thing."
"Well, you now what I mean," said Sammy. "He might make trouble for us. I say we'd better be careful."
"That's what I say, too," agreed Frank. "Now the best way, I think, will be to let our boat drift. We can pretend we are crabbing, but we can pull up the anchor, and the tide will take us nearly to where he is digging. He can't say anything, if we do that, for we have a right to drift."
"Yes, and then we can see if he has a boat," added Sammy. "I guess that's the best plan. But what about these crabs, Bob? Won't your mother want them for dinner?"
"No, she's going to make them into a salad for supper. We fellows will have to cook 'em, and pick 'em out of the shells, I expect. There will be time enough when we get in. Let's trail this old man now."
Accordingly the small pronged anchor, that held the boat from drifting while the crabbing was going on, was hauled up, and put in the bow. Then, while pretending to be busy with their crab lines, the boys let their craft drift with the tide over toward the shore.