“How were we to know till we tried her?” Nicholas asked, so innocently as to cause a laugh. “And how do you get the oysters?” he hurried on. “We want a load of them; that’s what we came for, a load of oysters.”
“What d’ye want ’em for?” demanded the Porpoise.
“Oh, to give away to our friends, of course,” Nicholas retorted. “That’s what you do with yours, I suppose.”
This started another laugh, and as our visitors grew more genial we could see that they had not the slightest suspicion of our identity or purpose.
“Didn’t I see you on the dock in Oakland the other day?” the Centipede asked suddenly of me.
“Yep,” I answered boldly, taking the bull by the horns. “I was watching you fellows and figuring out whether we’d go oystering or not. It’s a pretty good business, I calculate, and so we’re going in for it. That is,” I hastened to add, “if you fellows don’t mind.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, which ain’t two things,” he replied, “and that is you’ll have to hump yerself an’ get a better boat. We won’t stand to be disgraced by any such box as this. Understand?”
“Sure,” I said. “Soon as we sell some oysters we’ll outfit in style.”
“And if you show yerself square an’ the right sort,” he went on, “why, you kin run with us. But if you don’t” (here his voice became stern and menacing), “why, it’ll be the sickest day of yer life. Understand?”
“Sure,” I said.