“The gulls will help them out,” said Lester, as he pointed to a number of the great birds circling around. “They’re getting ready now to pick the bones, and are only waiting for us to get out of the way before they settle down to the job.”
“It’s getting pretty late, isn’t it?” inquired Bill. “I hardly think we’ll see Bartanet Shoals again to-night.”
“Not a chance in the world,” replied Lester, as he looked at the sky, already crimsoning in the west. “We’ll have to stay all night with Mark and make a break for home in the morning. But it doesn’t 153 matter, and dad won’t be worrying about us this time, especially if the weather stays clear.”
“I’m afraid Mark will find it some job to put us up for the night,” observed Ross, as he noted the tiny dimensions of the little cabin on the beach.
“It isn’t exactly a summer hotel,” grinned Lester. “There’s only one room and that’s pretty well cluttered up with his nets and tackle and other junk.”
“We’ll probably have to sleep outside on the sand,” remarked Bill.
“All the more fun,” chimed in Teddy. “We’ve done it once and we can do it again. One thing sure, there won’t be any kick coming on the question of ventilation. The earth for a bed, the sky for a blanket––”
“And the sea for a lullaby,” finished Ross.