“Eh? Oh, them oars. Yes, they be a good pair.”
“I see you’ve just painted them,” Hal pursued in spite of the appealing glances of Bee and Jack.
“Yes, I have to do that mates, so’s they won’t be taken by mistake. Them Portigees ain’t particular whose oars they row with. That’s why I likes to have ’em a distinguishin’ color, so to speak. Now if you had had your oars painted mates, I guess maybe you wouldn’t have lost ’em.”
“We didn’t lose them; they were stolen from us,” replied Hal sharply.
“But what,” interposed Jack hurriedly, “is to keep anyone from painting them over another color?”
“Well, they might, an’ that’s a fact, but they ain’t so likely to. Haven’t found your oars yet, have ye?”
“No, not yet,” Jack replied. “We haven’t had time to look around much.”
“We know where they are, though,” said Hal meaningly. “I guess we won’t have to look very far for them.”
“I want to know! Well, I was thinkin’ as how maybe you’d like to buy a good pair. That pair there might suit ye an’ I’d let ’em go right down cheap; say two dollars to you, mates.”