They both whirled around instantly.
"We weren't touching it, Captain Kroom," said Pete. "I met him up in the village, and he wants to go fishing. He says his name is Sam Williams. We've bought some clams and some sand-worms."
"Both of you get right in," commanded Captain Kroom. "I guess he's a city fellow. We'll show him some fishing. Pete, put in that pail of live bait. They're prime minnows. Sam, take the sail and boom and lay them forward, ready for me. Jump, now! the tide's turning. If we don't get right out across the bay we won't catch a bite."
"Sam," said Pete, as his companion seemed to hesitate, "pitch in. He knows fish."
The two boys were not so much unlike in their height and age, but there was hardly any other resemblance between them. Sam had no need to tell anybody that he did not belong on that shore. He was too nobbily dressed, his dark hair was too smooth, and his hands were too white. There was some healthy sunburn on his face, but it was nothing to the tan on Pete's. Besides, Pete was red-headed, and had a full supply of freckles. What was more, his rig, from his straw hat that turned up in front, down to his bare feet, was as unlike as could be to Sam's neatly fitting navy blue. Nevertheless, they were a bright-looking pair, and Sam stepped ahead quickly enough, after his momentary flush of rebellion at being "ordered around."
The fact was that old Captain Kroom was "bossy." It was his boat, to be sure, but he stood there and looked in all directions, as if he owned the bay, if not also the sand-bar on the further side of it, and the Atlantic Ocean beyond that.
He was a very large man, and very heavy. The three-cornered boat hardly seemed to feel the weight of Pete and Sam when they went into it with the bait and fishing-tackle and the other things. It rocked, of course, but it was steady enough, as if it were accustomed to boys, and did not mind having them on board. When, however, Captain Kroom finished his observations of the sea and the sky, and very deliberately put one foot into the boat at the stern, that end began to go down.
"Hold hard, boys," he said; "I'm a-comin'. Steady, now."
His other foot came in, and he at once sat down upon the stern seat; but at the same moment Sam, at the prow, felt as if he and the mast and sail were going up.
"Boys," said Captain Kroom, "I'm glad you're here. Keep well forrard, and it'll kind o' trim the boat. Pete, you and Sam can 'tend to the sail. Cast her loose from the wharf. Give her her head."