“How do you do?” began Bob.
“Fair an’ clear,” was the response, in a foreign accent. “Tourist, eh?”
“I’m here for the winter,” answered Bob, “if that’s what you mean. I suppose you’re a sailor.”
“Si, senor.” Then the man shrugged his shoulders. “I have been sailor. Now I am fisher—Joe Romano. My schooner she is de bes’ on de bay. Yo’ fadder is wis you?”
There seemed no reason why Bob should refuse to answer the fisherman’s question, so he explained how he had come to be in Pensacola. The man seemed disappointed, but he took from his pocket a soiled card and handed it to the lad. It read:
CAPTAIN JOSEPH ROMANO
Schooner Three Sisters
Conducts Parties for Sea
Trout, Red Fish, Spanish Mackerel and Pompano
Tarpon Guaranteed in Season
Rates Reasonable
“If yo’ fadder shall come,” said the sailor, “an’ he go for de fine fish, yo’ shall bring him to Captain Joe. I take him to de bes’ fish in Santa Rosa Soun’.”
Bob’s father cared no more about fishing than he did about history, but the boy had an idea. Why couldn’t he and his mother try their luck in a day’s outing with the tattooed, gold-earringed sailor?
“My father won’t be here,” answered Bob, “and I’m not much of a fisherman; but my mother and I may go with you some day. What are your rates?”
“You go wis yo’ mama, alone?” exclaimed Captain Joe, with sudden animation. “I take you in ze fine Three Sisters, cook yo’ fish dinner, stay all yo’ like, ten dollars.”