"Lost all our crabs, too," added Frank.
"Yes, and mother won't like it," put in Bob. "She was counting on 'em for salad for supper."
"Never mind, as long as you're all right," advised the light-keeper. "And as for crabs, I've been amusing myself catching a mess this morning. I've got more than I want, and I'll let you have some. Big ones they are, too. Where you been?"
They told him, and then, in a sudden burst of confidence, Sammy related about the strange old man, and told of how he had driven them away from his cottage.
Mr. Floyd chuckled, as he limped about on a cane, for he was able to be around now, though he could not go up and down the tower stairs.
"So you ran afoul of the professor; did you?" he asked with a laugh.
"Is that who he is—a professor?" asked Sammy eagerly. "What is he always digging for—pirate's gold?"
"Land love you, boy, I don't know; and no one else does, as far as I can learn," said Mr. Floyd. "He's been in these parts for some time now, but nobody knows what his game is. Digging; eh? Yes, he's always doing that."
"At night, too," said Sammy.