"Nothing," answered Frank quickly. "We're glad we could help you. I guess you won't have any more trouble."
"Not if you keep the hatch closed," added Andy.
"And you can make up your mind that I will!" answered the man decidedly. "No more snake or monkey cargoes for me. Well, I'll get along now, I guess. Say, I'd like to make you boys a present. I've got some prime lobsters that a fellow gave me. They're all alive. Won't you take some along?"
"Well, we generally can eat them," spoke Frank. "And my mother is very fond of lobster salad."
"Don't say another word," exclaimed the lighterman. "Here you are," and he drew forth a basket from under a pile of bagging at the foot of the mast. "Take 'em along."
There were a dozen fine, large lobsters in the basket as Andy ascertained by a peep, and then after thanking the man for them, and making sure that the hatch cover was on tight, the brothers rowed back to their craft. As they sailed away they saw the man carrying a small ketch anchor and placing it on top of the hatch cover.
"He isn't taking any chances," remarked Frank.
"Indeed not," agreed his brother. "Well, let's see if we can pick up that mysterious man again."
They looked all about, but there was no sign of the dory, and they felt that it would be useless to sail about in search, as it was getting late.
"Let's put for home," proposed Frank, and Andy assented.