“Huh,” says Mr. Dunn, “if it hadn’t been for fool luck, these kids would have bamboozled you. You’re a fine citizen, you are. It isn’t your fault we’re not digging holes in some place a hundred miles from here. Smart kids, I’ll say.”
“They’re that. They’ve been on our necks ever since we got here, prowling around, and what not. We caught them once and had them aboard the _Porpoise_, but they got away.”
“Is that where that document case went to?” says Mr. Dunn kind of savage.
“I don’t know, but we missed it that night.”
“Have you kids got a document case you got aboard the _Porpoise_?” says Mr. Dunn.
“Because,” says Mr. Dunn, “if you have, it’ll be worth money to you to give it back.”
“Oh,” says Mr. Dunn careless-like, “twenty-five dollars.”
“H’m, ... if we had it—which we’re not saying, twenty-five dollars doesn’t look like enough to support a large family on,” says Catty.
“Anyhow,” says I, “twenty-five dollars wouldn’t be any good to anybody—not tied up in this tent. You can’t spend a penny here.”
“That’s sense,” says Mr. Dunn. “The first thing is to get out of here. Hear that, Mr. Hero? Now get busy heroing.”
“In daylight?” says Catty, kind of pitying. “However do you think I could rescue you in daylight?”
“These ropes are ’most cutting my wrists off,” says I.
“They always do,” says Catty. “Lots of times the prisoners bear scars for life, where the ropes cut in.”
“I’m not collecting scars,” says I. “Postage stamps are my specialty.”
“Everybody leave me alone,” says Catty, “while I think.”
“I suppose Robbins will be coming along next,” says Mr. Dunn.
“I doubt it,” says Mr. House. “I heard that man who seems to be bossing the crew give orders to man a boat and go out to the yacht. Most likely the mutineers have taken possession of it by now, both the _Porpoise_ and your big yacht.”
“Then,” says Catty, “the _Albatross_ is our only hope.”
“I’m beginning to get an idea,” says Catty, “but we’ll have to wait for dark.”
“Plenty,” says Catty, as satisfied as a cat with a dish of cream.
“Then,” says I, “you can get right to work thinking up another one. What I want is something nice and safe—and comfortable.”
“Keep still,” says Catty, “or I won’t let you be in it.”
“That,” says I, “just suits me. I wish I hadn’t been allowed to be in _this_.”