“No, no. I know where it is. I loaned it to Captain Eli and—”
“O-ho-ho, a likely story, but just t’ same I’m goin’ t’ tike ’e both t’ th’ warden at Haustin’s Pool. ’E’ll tike care o’ ye. Come, ’op haboard t’ Betsy Hanne. Lively now ’er I’ll blow yer bloomin’ ’eads hoff, blime me hif I don’t.”
CHAPTER VIII
LOBSTER PIRATES
There remained nothing for Jack and Ray to do but climb aboard. With the determined old fisherman standing there in the stern of the Betsy Anne, looking coldly along the barrel of the old “barker,” as he called his pistol, the two lads felt that he had them at a disadvantage. From the age and condition of the revolver it did not look as if it could do very much damage. But nevertheless the two boys were not of a mind to experiment with its shooting qualities by making themselves the target. Therefore they made haste to obey the old salt’s command, especially when he emphasized it by waving the “barker” very close to them. Also they moved forward into the bow of the boat at his direction. Then, as he tied the painter of Captain Eli’s dory to a stern cleat and grasped the tiller of his own boat, he muttered:
“Now, blime me, wi’ all things shipshape, an’ two o’ th’ bloominest lobster pirates as ever was a-stowed awi in t’ bow, were hoff for Haustin’s Pool, Miss Betsy Hanne.” He let out the sheet and shoved over the tiller, and as if in answer to his suggestion the little boat filled her main sail and presently was scudding merrily through the water.
All three occupants of the boat were silent for some time after that, but the doughty captain kept his eyes fastened on the two boys in the bow and the “barker” within convenient reach.
After a time, however, the little old one-legged fisherman could stand the silence no longer, and began to muse once more, apparently addressing the Betsy Anne as before.
“Me bein’ a jest man as ’ow I are an’ me bein’ a right-minded person as ’ow I ’opes I are, ’ow can I g’ back on me bloomin’ senses? ’Ere I been a-findin’ o’ my traps robbed, these weeks past, an’ ’ere I comes along hin me hole Betsy Hanne an’ finds these ’ere two a-robbin’ of ’em and then I says t’ one o’ ’em, says I, ‘Whose ’nitials is J. S.?’ an’ ’e says, says ’e, ‘My ’nitials is J. S.,’ an’ I says, then,’ ’Ere’s your watch as I found hin my lobster traps,’ says I, an’ then ’e ups an’ denies hit and says, says ’e, ‘Hit ain’t my watch, ’ere’s my watch,’ an’ goes fer t’ find ’is watch, an’ then seems surprised like ’cause it ain’t hin ’e’s pocket which o’ course hit ain’t ’cause hit’s in my ’and all t’ time, an’ then ’e says, says ’e, ‘Oh I left hit ’ome wi’ Cap’n Eli,’ says ’e, an’ I ax ye, me bein’ a jest man as ever was an’ a right-thinkin’ hole sea-dog as is, I ax ye, what for are I t’ think?”
“I tell you, we are not lobster thieves. We are from the construction camp over on Hood Island. We’re friends of Captain Eli’s—Captain Eli Whittaker, the keeper of Hood Island light,” asserted Jack, who had become very indignant listening to the old man’s recital.