"All right," agreed Louise. "But any big boat will do. There are four of us. One basket and four poles," she ordered from the prim little gray haired woman who kept the stand at the landing.
"And bait," went on Louise, while the other girls marveled at her marine intelligence.
"Oh, what smelly stuff?" sniffed Grace, taking the basket and holding it out at arm's length.
"That's the bait," explained Louise.
"I'm never going to eat fish as long as I live," resolved Cleo. "Each time I meet it it smells worse."
"The same fish naturally would," joked Louise. "But this is only bait Cleo—bait, don't you know what that means?" she teased, swinging the obnoxious basket up to a line with Cleo's face, where avoiding the odor would be impossible.
A boy was unfastening their boat, and he placed the oars in the locks just as the girls reached the water's edge.
"Don't tip," cautioned Julia. "We could at least get wet, even in this shallow water."
Grace and Margaret took the oars, and soon the crabbing party was gliding out among the few vacationists who were taking advantage of the pleasant afternoon on the water.
"Oh, look!" exclaimed Cleo. "There are the crabs! Where's our bait and things?"