"And I was thinking of naming it 'Ola'," declared Charley promptly.
After a spirited debate over the two names they held in such esteem, the two lads at last came to a compromise by agreeing to call their little ship "The Two Sisters". This decided, they rummaged around in the lockers until they found paint and brushes with which they proceeded to letter on the bow of their crafts the name chosen.
As soon as this task was finished, they returned to the village and made a round of the shops purchasing clothing for their trip, pricing provisions, and learning all they could from the various merchants about the Greeks and the sponge business.
They were passing a little photo studio when Chris' voice hailed them from inside. It was hard for them to refrain from laughter at the figure the little negro presented.
A common blue suit had been too tame a color for Chris' brilliant-loving soul. He was clothed in a pair of baggish yellow trousers, many sizes too large for him, a coat of vivid scarlet hue, and a cap of deepest purple. But in spite of his brilliant attire, his little ebony face expressed deepest satisfaction. On a chair beside him was a great pile of finished tin-types and the Greek proprietor, beaming at the unusual rush of business, was just adjusting his camera to take another.
"Why, what do you want with any more of them, Chris?" Walter exclaimed. "You've got enough already to supply everyone on Cat Island."
"Dey ain't no good," replied the little darkey, mournfully, "I 'spect dis man doan know his business."
Charley examined one of the despised tintypes. "Why, they look just like you," he declared.
"Dey's just black an' white," protested the little negro. "Dey doan show de colors at all."
The chums turned their heads aside to hide their grins.