“But the doors are closed,” said Bob.
“Through the ports, then?”
“Poppycock!” said Nelson. “Lobsters can’t climb. Some one must——”
“Maybe there was a high tide last night,” suggested Tom.
“What’s that got to do with it, I’d like to know?” Bob demanded.
“Why, maybe the water came up to the port lights and the lobsters were swimming on the surface, and they saw Dan and mistook him for a long-lost brother——”
“Tommy, if you call me a lobster, I’ll hammer you! Look at the ugly, crawly things! Ugh! Some one throw ’em overboard!”
“Some smart chump must have opened the door and tossed them in here last night,” said Nelson thoughtfully. “Or maybe this morning.”
“More likely this morning,” said Bob. “And probably the person, whoever he was, dropped them in through the ports.”
“That’s so,” said Tom, a trifle too eagerly. “Bet you that’s just what happened!”