Penny nodded, and then asked: “You’re a sailor, aren’t you? Where have you sailed?”
“The Atlantic, the Great Lakes, the Gulf o’ Mexico. Oh, I been everywhere.”
Penny and Louise chatted with Anchor Joe for a time but, although they asked any number of questions, they gained very little definite information. The sailor seemed unwilling to tell anything about himself, save in generalities.
“We may as well go on to Peter Fenestra’s place,” Penny presently remarked. “It’s getting late.”
Anchor Joe’s varnish brush became motionless. He glanced up with sudden interest.
“I wouldn’t go there if I was you gals,” he said.
“Why not?” questioned Penny in astonishment.
“The weather don’t look so good. She might blow up a gale before sundown.”
“Oh, we’re not afraid of a little wind or rain,” answered Penny carelessly. “Come along, Lou.”
Anchor Joe said nothing more, but his sober gaze followed the girls as they walked away.