“You ain’t honest enough to count out a hunderd clams, Kuk,” declared the plain-spoken old lady. “Ye got such a high-powered imagination that ye can’t count straight.”
“Now, Mis’ Bobster, thet thar’s a hard statement ter make,” said Kuk, shaking his head, but grinning. “Don’t make me out so ’fore these here young ladies.”
“I reckon they know ye!” cried the widow. “If they’ve ever hearn ye spin one o’ yer sea-farin’ yarns——”
“And we have,” interposed Ruth, smiling. “He’s told us about how he sailed in the Spanking Sal and lost his leg fighting pirates.”
“For the good land o’ liberty!” gasped Mrs. Bobster. “He never told ye that?”
“Oh, yes. It was very interesting,” laughed Ruth.
“Why,” said the widow, angrily, “that fellow never sailed in a deep-water craft in his life. The only time he ever went out in a double-ender as fur as the swordfish banks, he was so sick they had ter bring him ashore on a stretcher!”
“Now, Mis’ Bobster——” began the clam digger, faintly.
“Ain’t that so? Ye daren’t deny it,” she declared. “He ain’t no sailor. He’s jest an old beach-comber. Don’t never go in any boat outside of the cove. Lost his leg fightin’ pirates, did he? Huh!”
“So he told us,” said the much amused Ruth.