I’ll own up I was surprised and, though Catty doesn’t like to admit he’s ever surprised, I’ll bet he was, too. I’ll bet he was so surprised he almost shed his ears and that’s about as surprised as a fellow can get without going to a lot of trouble and annoyance. Right out of a clear sky those great big hands came down on the backs of our necks and hung on. Next time I crawl into a dinghy you can believe I’m going to take a peek in to see if anybody’s there.

“Wa-al,” says the man, “who be you, and what’s the idee of towin’ me out here?”

“We didn’t know you were in the dinghy,” says Catty.

“So I jedged,” says the man, kind of dry-like. “I figgered you’d be awful glad to see me when you found out I was here.”

The man never let go his hold, and there wasn’t a bit of chance to squirm away. “Calc’late I’ll hang onto you younguns,” said the man. “Act kind of slippery to me. Tide’ll drift us ashore in a minute so the’ hain’t no need for me to start up the engine. Say, what was you aimin’ to do, anyhow?”

“Nothin’ much,” says I, and I’ll admit myself that wasn’t much of an answer.

“How come you way out here?” he says.

“Sailed,” says Catty, “and while we were ashore our boat went off and left us.”

“And you was aimin’ to borrow this here dink to git back to town, eh?”

“Yes,” says Catty.

“Um.... Fine doin’s. All this is fine goin’s on. Dunno what it’s all about. Chasin’ and hollerin’ and tryin’ to run off with dinks. Anyhow, I’m a-goin’ to take you in and show you to the boss.”

He kept his grip on us, and pretty soon the boat grated on the beach, and the man let out a holler, “Hey, I got a couple kids here. Come take a look at ’em.”

In about two minutes Mr. House and another man came along and turned flashlights on us. House kind of grunted.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” says the other man to Catty, but before Catty could answer, Mr. House spoke up and says, “They’re the two kids from the Albatross.... The ones we got the chart from.”

“So,” says the other man, whose name turned out to be Robbins. “That’s how it is, eh? What were you hiding out here for and spying on us?”

“We came out for a sail with a man that owned a cat. He charged us a dollar,” says Catty, “and then went off and left us. He acted like he was mad at the man who left us, and looked sort of simple-minded and frightened.”

“Left you? How did he leave you?”

“We came ashore to dig for oysters,” says Catty, “and when we went where he ought to be, he wasn’t there.”

“Dig for oysters?” says Mr. Robbins. “And where in the world did you expect to find oysters?”

“Why—up in the sand. We were told oysters grew in the sand.”

“Huh.... And what were you after?” he says to me.

“More oysters,” I says.

“They were going to roll in oysters,” Mr. House says to Mr. Robbins. “Say, don’t you know oysters aren’t good to eat for two months yet?”

“No,” says Catty, “the man told us they were ripe now, and all we had to do was to dig them and shuck them.”

“I’ll be jiggered!” says Mr. House.

“I don’t see anything funny about it,” says Catty. “You were digging, too. Weren’t you after oysters?”

“No,” says Mr. Robbins, “we weren’t after oysters exactly. We were digging for——”

“Baked beans,” says Mr. House with a face as grave as a deacon’s. “Boston Baked Beans. This is the best bean beach in America. There are places where you get them with more pork, but not a place in the world where the beans themselves are half as large.”

Of a sudden Mr. Robbins got fierce, and he pointed his finger in Catty’s face, “Now, young man, no fooling, if you know what’s good for you. What did you see?”

“We saw you digging a hole, and you didn’t act like you were finding any—baked beans in the bottom of it,” says Catty.

“It was him gave me the chart,” says Mr. House.

“Where did you get that chart,” says Mr. Robbins.

“On the Albatross,” says Catty.

“Anybody tell you to give it to us?”

“No.”

“Hear any talk about us aboard your boat?”

“None to speak of,” says Catty.

“We kind of thought you were following us—the way you’ve stuck to us,” says Mr. House, and I was just going to say the shoe was on the other foot, when Catty gouged me with his elbow, and I said “Ourrumph” and then shut up.

“No,” says Catty, “we aren’t following anybody. We’re just cruising around looking for fish and things.”

“About that map,” says Mr. Robbins, “the chart you gave us?”

“Oh, that. Why, you’re welcome to it, I guess. It was an old one.”

Then Mr. House took a hand. “Listen, Robbins,” he said. “I’ve been watching this kid’s face, and I don’t believe he’s half the idiot he makes believe. We better take them aboard the Porpoise and put them through a course of sprouts. There’s too much at stake here to miss any chance.... Hey, you, start the engine and let’s be going. Anyhow I’ve done my share of digging for tonight.”

The sailorman started the engine, and we moved out into the black bay. Away off to the left we could see the lights of Nantucket town, and we headed for them. It was a pretty howdy-do. Here we were in a fine mess, being taken aboard the Porpoise, and goodness only knew what was going to happen there. I wasn’t exactly scairt, but I was pretty uneasy, I can tell you. It was getting late and Mr. Browning would start to worry about us. Then I got to thinking, what if the fellow with the catboat went back and told how we had gone ashore? Take it all around, and things were mighty messy.

It’s curious, now, to look back at that night and to see how much happened in just a few hours—and how fast it happened—and how soon it was all over with for that time. But it didn’t seem short while it was going on. I should say not. It seemed like it was a week, and when I looked at the clock just before I crawled into my bunk and saw what time it was, I couldn’t believe it.

Anyhow, we put-putted along until we came to the Porpoise, and Catty and I were marched up the ladder to her deck.

“Down into the cabin,” says Mr. House, and down we went.

The cabin was about as large as ours aboard the Albatross, but, instead of having windows, it had portholes, and somehow, it seemed stuffy and less pleasant. Maybe that was just because we didn’t enjoy being there. That makes a lot of difference.

There was a seat along one side, and Catty and I were told to sit down there. Mr. House and Mr. Robbins drew up chairs and sat down facing us.

“Now,” says Mr. House, “what’s your name?”

“Catty Atkins,” says Catty.

“And yours?”

“Wee-wee Moore,” says I.

“What are you doing on the Albatross?”

“Mr. Browning invited us to come for this cruise,” says Catty.

“Any relation of his?”

“No.”

“Any relation of Topper’s?”

“No, we never saw Mr. Topper until we went aboard the yacht.”

“Um.... Now I want you kids to answer up sharp, and tell the truth. What is the Albatross doing here?”

“Lying at anchor,” says Catty, and his face looked as if he didn’t have as much sense as a guinea pig.

“We can see that. But what made her come here?”

“Why—nothing special, I guess. Just to see the island. Say, what’s the matter? Why do you bring us aboard here? I want to go back to the Albatross. Mr. Browning won’t like it.”

“That,” says Mr. Robbins, “is too bad.... Ever hear them speak about us?”

“Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“They said this looked like a good boat, only they thought she’d look better if she wasn’t painted black.”

“Huh,” says Mr. Robbins, and then nobody said anything for a while.

“Sure they never said anything else about us? Didn’t ever figure we were following them around?”

“Oh,” says Catty, “were you following us? What for?”

“Listen,” says Mr. House, and we all listened. It was a faint kind of a rumble. “Thunder,” says he. “Storm coming.”

“Let her come,” says Mr. Robbins.

“Got enough anchor chain out? This anchorage, just on the edge of the channel, didn’t look any too secure to me,” says Mr. House.

“Oh, we’ll hold,” says Mr. Robbins.

Then it lightened, and the thunder sounded louder. Mr. House went up on deck to take a look, and nobody said anything while he was gone. I had that kind of a hungry feeling that always comes just as a thunder storm is coming up—kind of a lightness in the stomach, and a tingling all over. I’m not afraid of storms—but I can’t say I like them.

I kept my eyes on Catty, wondering what he was thinking about, and if he had any scheme in his head. He didn’t look to me as if he had anything in his head at all. Just kind of sleepy was the way he looked, and I felt sort of discouraged.

Pretty soon the storm burst, and it was a dandy. The wind came down with a roar, and thunder claps came so fast it sounded as if it was one big long one. We could feel the Porpoise roll and churn around, and things cracked and creaked. Flash came right on top of flash, and you’d think every one of them was hitting the water just outside. And then Mr. House yelled down the companionway:

“Hey, come up. We’re dragging.”

Mr. Robbins jumped up at that, and so did we. I was going to rush right up, but Catty grabbed my arm and hung on.

“Wait,” says he.

“What for?” says I.

“Never have another chance like this to look around,” says he. “Here’s our chart,” says he, “laying right on this shelf. See, they’ve been making calculations on it.” He folded it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Going to be kind of hard for them to calculate any more,” says he.

He looked into the stateroom, and there, on the bed was a leather document case. “Um.... Wish we had time to take a look,” says he, and he reached for it. Just as he reached there was a sort of grating jar, and we could hear voices hollering up on deck.

“We’ve drifted down on somebody,” says Catty. “Come on.”

He grabbed the document case and ran up the stairs, me right at his heels—and, would you believe me, but there right against us, scraping her paint off against ours, was the Albatross.

“Jump,” says I, but just then we drifted apart so we couldn’t jump. I saw Catty draw back his arm and throw the document bag across the water. It landed on the deck of the Albatross.

“Ahoy, the Albatross!” Catty yelled at the top of his lungs. “We’re all right—aboard the Porpoise. Don’t worry.”