The water was perfectly smooth; but the boat was full in an instant, and nearly a bushel of freshly-caught and ill-tempered crabs were manoeuvring in all directions around the woolly head, which was all their late captor could now keep in sight.
"Up with the grapnel, Ford," shouted Dab. "Take an oar: we'll both row.
He can swim like a duck, but he might split his throat."
"Or get scared to death."
"Or those crabs might go for him, and eat him up."
"How he does yell!"
CHAPTER VII.
A VERY ACCIDENTAL CALL.
At the very moment when the angry crab closed his nippers on the bare big toe of Dick Lee, and his shrill note of discomfort rang across the inlet, the shriller whistle of the engine announced the arrival of the morning train from the city, at the little station in the village.
A moment or so later, a very pretty young lady was standing beside a trunk on the platform, trying to get some information from the flagman.
"Can you tell me where Mr. Foster lives?"