In a twinkling the two boys were in the dory, the painter was cast off, and little Joey was dancing excitedly about the deck as he screamed shrilly:
"Good-bye, Sam! Good-bye, Tom! I'm sorry you won't have a chance to see the city, but I'll tell you all about it when we get back!"
"We don't want to see any city, when there's lots of lobsters in the pots!" Sam cried cheerily. "Say, Uncle Ben, the car was mighty nigh full when we dumped the catch in last night; what's to be done if we have good luck to-day?"
"Better freight a load over to the Port, Sammy, if you feel able to pull that far. Mr. Mansfield will take all you carry; but in case you're too tired, we'll run the chances of losin' some of 'em, seein's how this 'ere lot of mackerel more'n makes up for them as may eat each other."
"Jest hold your hand on the top of your head till we get tired when there are big dollars to be made, an' see how long you'll keep it there!" Tom cried as the "Sally" came around on her heel, every inch of canvas catching the fresh breeze and forcing the little schooner on her way to Portland, as if understanding how necessary it was the fish be delivered to the purchasers by daybreak next morning.
"I thought I'd seen quick work before, but I never struck any thin' so sudden as mackerel fishin'," Tom said when the dory, with the boys each pulling a pair of oars, was headed for Apple Island. "There must be big money in sich business, an' I wonder Uncle Ben don't knock off lobsterin' to 'tend to it."
"We might come out fifty times, an' not strike luck the same as we had it this mornin'," Sam replied with a happy laugh. "It's great for the first cruise, an' now if we can take as many lobsters as we did last night, it'll seem as if this family had started in all right."
So elated were the lads by the success of the morning that the five-mile pull was hardly more than sport, and so busy were they speculating as to how much money the mackerel would bring in that it seemed as if they were hardly more than cast off from the "Sally D." before Apple Island was close under the dory's bow.
"I reckon Mr. Rowe was way out of his reckonin' when he said we were so far away," Tom cried in astonishment, when Sam called his attention to the fact that they were almost home. "It can't have been more'n—— Hello! Ain't that your old heathen jest pullin' out of the cove?"
Sam ceased rowing in order to gaze in the direction indicated by Tom's outstretched finger, and an exclamation of dismay burst from his lips as he cried: