"Looks as if it might. Sam's got one on him. But I don't need any more tackle than I've got at home, unless it is some hooks and sinkers."
"Pete," said Sam, "spread 'em out to dry. Then you can see if they fit."
The fact was that Pete was the only member of the Elephant's crew of three who stood in need of new clothing. The suit he had on consisted mainly of a pair of baggy trousers and a tow shirt. It did not keep him from being a pretty good looking fellow, however, and his own feelings about it did not hurt him.
"Guess they won't make a dude of me," he remarked, as he spread the soaked blue suit out forward, where the wind and sun could get at it. "It's a kind of sailor rig, anyhow."
"It'll shrink to your size," said the Captain. "'Twasn't made for a big fellow."
The Elephant was now before the wind, and was tugging spitefully against the rope which bound her to the spar behind her. Now that the bundle had given up all that was in it, the next point of interest was the valise.
Once more the Captain remarked, "His key is in it."
Then he hesitated, and stared down at the key as if reading something.
"Rusty," he said. "But it doesn't take long for iron to rust in salt water. You can't judge by that."
"Captain Kroom," exclaimed Sam, "there used to be a name on this end of it, but it's kind of washed out."