At length their strained eyes solved the mystery. It was a rudely built raft with a stool upon it, and upon the stool sat a ragged urchin ten or twelve years of age.
"Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" shouted the six boys in unison.
"Fine rig you have there!" called one.
"What will you take for your ship?" shouted another.
For all response the stranger simply stared.
"Don't hurt his feelings, boys," said Mr. Hobart kindly, "he's getting enjoyment in his own way, and I suspect that it's the best way he knows of."
Conscious of impoliteness, the boys subsided, and nothing more was thought of the stranger for several hours.
About noon, however, as they were resting on the shore, he appeared before them with an old cigar box in his hand.
"Want some crickets and grasshoppers?" he asked timidly. "I've been catching them for you, if you want them."
"Yes, they are exactly the things we need," replied Mr. Hobart. "How much do you want for the lot?"