She went back on deck. The fishermen were beginning to haul in weakfish and an occasional tautog, or blackfish. Amy, with a shout, hauled in Henrietta’s line and got inboard a fine flounder.
“Anyway, we’ll have a big fish-fry for supper. The men will clean the fish and Darry and Burd will fry them. Your mother and mine, Jess, say that they have got through with the galley for the day.”
“Oh!” ejaculated Jessie and, whirling suddenly around, started for the galley slide.
“Where are you going?” cried Amy. “Do help me with this flopping fish. I can’t get the hook out.”
Her chum did not halt. She knew that nobody had thought to look into the cook’s galley that had been shut up after lunch. She forced back the slide and peered in.
There on the deck of the little compartment, with her back against the wall, or bulkhead, was Henrietta. On one side was a jar of strawberry jam only half full. Much of the sticky sweet was smeared upon the cracker clutched in the child’s hand and upon her face and the front of her frock. Henrietta was asleep!
“What is it?” demanded Amy, who had followed her more excited chum. “What’s happened to her?”
“Look at that!” exclaimed Jessie, dramatically.
Darry and Burd drew near. Amy burst into stifled laughter.
“What do you know about that kid? She asked me if she could have a bite between meals and I told her of course she could. But I never thought she would take me so at my word.” Amy’s laughter was no longer stifled.