"What a queer thing it is!"
"Queer? I guess you'd say so, if you could have a look at the things he's picked up along shore, and stowed inside of it. There isn't but just room for him to cook and sleep in."
"Is he a fisherman too?"
"Why, that's his trade. Sometimes the storms drift the sand high all over that cabin, and old Pete has to dig it out again. He gets snowed under two or three times every winter."
Annie Foster, and probably some of the others, were getting new ideas concerning the sea-coast and its inhabitants, every minute; and she felt a good deal like Dick Lee,—she "wouldn't have missed that trip for any thing."
They were now coasting along the island, at no great distance; and, although it was not nearly noon, Dabney heard Joe Hart say to his brother,—
"Never was so hungry in all my life. Glad they did lay in a good stock of provisions."
"So am I," returned Fuz; and he added in a whisper,
"Isn't there any way for us to get into that cabin?"
Joe shook his head. There was not the slightest chance for any small piracy to be worked on that craft, so long as Mrs. Kinzer remained the "stewardess" of it; and the two hungry boys were compelled to wait her motions.