"No."
"I can, then. Ham'll have one half of our house at work getting his cargo ready, and that baby'll fill up the other half."
"Mother won't be expecting us so soon, and our cook's gone out for the day. Annie knows something."
"She can help me, then. Those Hart boys'll die if they're not fed pretty soon. Look at Fuz. Why, he can't keep his mouth shut."
Joe and his brother seemed to know as if by instinct that the dinner question was under discussion, and they were soon taking at least their share of the talk. Oh, how they did wish it had been a share of something to eat, instead!
"The Swallow" was carefully moored, after discharging her passengers; but Dab did not start for the house with his mother and the rest. He even managed to detain some of the empty lunch-baskets, large ones too.
"Come on, Mr. Kinzer," shouted Joe Hart. "Let's put for the village.
We'll starve here."
"A fellow that'll starve here, just deserves to, that's all," said Dabney. "Ford, there's Bill Lee's boat and three others coming in. We're all right. One of 'em's a dredger."
Ford and Frank could only guess what their friend was up to, but Dab was not doing any sort of guessing.
"Bill," he shouted, as Dick Lee's father came within hearing,—"Bill! put a lot of your best panfish in this basket, and then go and fetch us some lobsters. There's half a dozen in your pot. Did those others have any luck?"