“As long as a shark never catches me, I won’t kick,” said the philosophical Bill.
They threw themselves down on the beach, panting and perspiring. The day was very warm, and the excitement of the catch, together with their recent efforts, made the rest a needed and grateful one.
“Well,” said Lester, the first to get on his feet 149 again, “while you weary Willies are loafing here, I’m going up to Mark’s cabin and see if he’s at home. The chances are that he isn’t, or he’d have been out to see what all this fuss was about. Still, he may be asleep. Anyway, whether he’s home or not, I want to scare up an axe or hatchet or something of the kind to dig out that harpoon.”
“What’s the matter with the hatchet we’ve got?” asked Teddy lazily.
“That’s rather small, and, besides, with that only one can work at a time. It’ll take some digging to get through that hide. Then, too, you fellows were talking of getting out the teeth and strips of the hide for mementoes, and you can’t do that with your pocket knives alone.”
“Go on then, you horny-handed son of toil, and luck be with you,” drawled Bill. “You’ll find us here when you get back.”
“I’m sure of that,” retorted Lester. “It would take an earthquake to make you fellows move.”
Lester went up the beach until he reached the open door of the cabin and looked in. He found it deserted as he had expected. He went in and hunted about among its meagre belongings and came back to the boys, triumphant, bringing with him a hatchet, an axe and a large, keen-bladed knife that was used by Mark in cleaning his fish.
“Here they are!” he exclaimed, as he laid them down on the sand. “Mark wasn’t at home, so I 150 made free with these things of his, as I knew he wouldn’t mind. There’s no further excuse for you hoboes now, and you want to get a wiggle on.”
“Take back them cruel woids,” groaned Teddy.