Vince thoughtfully shook his head, as he gazed down once more from between two pieces of granite that the storms of centuries had carved till they seemed to have been set upon edge.
“Might offer him some money.”
“I don’t believe he’d like it, and you know Jemmy Carnach once said that, though he always dressed so shabbily and never spent anything, he always was well off.”
“Well, then, what are we to do? I want to see the place worse than ever. It looks so tempting, and as if there’s no knowing what we might find.”
“I don’t think we should find anything about it but that it would be a good place for fishing. It must be if no one ever goes there. Why, Ladle, all the holes among the rocks must swarm with lobsters, and the congers must be as big as serpents.”
Mike nodded.
“But how are we to get there to fish for them?”
“Don’t know, unless we try it ourselves with a boat.”
“Would you risk it?”
Vince did not answer for a few moments, but stood clinging to the rock, gazing down and searchingly examining the opening through which the tide poured.