“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” exclaimed Bee. “Take ’em down and throw them in the ocean.”
So Hal, with a groan, descended the hill and obeyed instructions. Jack asserted that he was too tired to cook much that evening and so they contented themselves with a can of tongue, bread and butter and tea and turned in early thoroughly wearied out.
The next morning, a cloudy, muggy morning it was, Bee went back to his digging as soon as breakfast was over, and the others felt that they could do no less than help him. It was warm, back-breaking work and the only thing that rewarded their labors after the third trench had been completed was a blue-gray stone, in shape like an elongated egg, with a groove running around the middle of it. Bee declared that it was the head of an indian war club, but Jack said it was only a stone that had been worn by the water. Anyhow Bee added it to his collection. By that time it was nearly noon and Jack’s suggestion that they knock off work and take a swim met with instant agreement. The sea was smooth and oily and a cloud bank lay along the horizon. But the water was of just the proper temperature and they swam over to the Crystal Spring and dived off the deck and lazed around in the water and out until long after it was time to cook dinner. When, at last, a thick slice of steak was lifted from the frying-pan and apportioned amongst them they were so famished that Jack opened a can of baked beans and added that delicacy to the menu. Afterwards, Bee I think, wanted to dig again, but the repast had had its effect on even his enthusiasm and he joined Jack and Hal in their lazy efforts to hit the handle of the spade with stones from a distance of forty feet. It was while they were engaged in this amusement that Jack called their attention to a dory which had just come into sight around a bend of the river.
“The pirate,” said Bee. “Do you suppose he’s coming here?”
“If he does,” said Hal grimly, “I’m going to hide everything we’ve got! I’m glad we had the sense to bring the oars and boat-hook up here with us yesterday.”
“We didn’t go down to see whether the anchor had been taken, though,” said Bee. “Look, the old rascal is waving at us.”
Bill Glass was just rowing by the little wharf. Jack waved back to him. “He’s not going to honor us with a call, I guess. He’s got two lobster-pots in the stern and I suppose he’s going out to drop them somewhere.”
“I wonder where he stole them,” murmured Hal. “Have you missed a lobster-pot, Bee?”
Bee patted his pockets gravely and shook his head. “No, I’ve got all mine,” he replied. They watched the man in the dory row out of the river and finally disappear around the Clinker.