Crabs were plentiful in that part of the bay near the captain's bungalow, and soon even Margy and Mun Bun were trying to catch the creatures which had such big, pinching claws. Of course Mrs. Bunker helped her two little children, but Russ and Rose and Vi and Laddie had crabbed before, and knew all about that sport.
Each of the six little Bunkers was given a string with a piece of meat or a fish head on the end. This bait was dropped into the water at the side of the pier.
Pretty soon the crabs, crawling along on the bottom or swimming half way toward the surface, saw or smelled the bait. They went up to it and grasped it in their big claws, holding fast with one, while they picked off bits of meat with the other large claw.
"Oh, I got one!" suddenly whispered Laddie. "I got one!"
"Pull up easy!" his father said. Mr. Bunker had a long-handled net. Catching crabs is not like catching fish. There is no hook for the crab to bite on and be held fast. He only holds by his claws, and if the bait is lifted too far out of the water the crab drops off. That is why Daddy Bunker had a net ready.
"Lift your string slowly," said Laddie's father, and the little boy did this. Inch by inch the string came up, and Laddie, looking down, could see the crab clinging by his claws to the chunk of meat.
"He's a big blue-clawed one!" exclaimed Laddie.
"Careful now," said Daddy Bunker. "Careful!"
He slipped the net down into the water, working it under the crab, which was eating away at Laddie's bait, not thinking of the danger of being caught.
Suddenly Daddy Bunker swooped with the net, dipped it and raised it again from the water. Something wiggled in the net.