"They would not have to be very good to be that," observed Captain Westfield, gravely. "Those fishermen are a tough looking lot. I hope we will not have any trouble with them."
"We will not have any," said Walter, cheerfully. "If we just tend to our own business I guess they will tend to theirs. Well, I guess these are the houses Mr. Daniels spoke about."
They had reached the end of the long dock. On one side of it stood a row of small shacks. Most of them were occupied but at last they came upon a large one that stood empty.
"Golly," exclaimed Chris, as he peeped inside, "dar poor white trash dat lived in dis was sho' dirty."
The floor was thickly covered with filth and rubbish, the walls were tobacco stained, and the windows were broken and covered with grime.
"We'll soon make it look different," said Captain Westfield, cheerfully. "Let's go to work with some system and we'll soon be comfortably settled. Walter, you make out a list of what we need and go up to the store. Charley, see what you can do with those windows. Chris and I will clean out. Bring a broom, Walt."
When Walter got back with his arms full of bundles he found the shack wet inside but clean, the windows shining brightly, and his comrades nowhere in sight.