All this time he had not once caught a glimpse of his friend Bobby Tucker, nor, indeed, had he had time to look for him. He had asked old Mose where Minchin’s Island was, and when the steamer would arrive there; but although Mose could give him very little geographical information, he knew certainly that the Pride of the Wave was due at the island about noon.
Tim was impatient to get through with his work, so that he could talk with Bobby a few moments, and when Mr. Rankin told him that he was at liberty until dinner-time, he went at once to Tip’s narrow quarters, believing he would find the boy from Minchin’s Island there.
Nor was he mistaken, for there was Bobby examining the dog very carefully, measuring his legs and the stump of his tail, in order that he might give accurate information regarding him to his friends at home.
Although the boys were very glad to see each other, the meeting was not a particularly affectionate one.
“Hello, Bob!” cried Tim; and Bobby answered,
“Hello, Tim!”
“What are you doin’ to Tip?”
“I was only kinder lookin’ him over, to see if he was all right for the bears when he an’ you come down to see me.”
“Ah, he can take care of the bears fast enough, but I’m afraid he won’t get down to your house.”
“Oh yes, he will,” was the confident reply. “The very next time the Pride comes to the island I’m goin’ to get father to make the captain let you come ashore, an’ father’s one of the selectmen, so I guess Captain Pratt can’t help hisself.”