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Guess you never see no hens like them afore, chuckled the lobsterman as he rowed away. An, say, dont pet em much; they might peck yer!
The lobsters were in the bottom of the tender, and as he rowed back to the launch Tom was careful to keep his feet out of their reach. When he had made fast and carefully lifted the lobsters on board, he put his head into the engine room and listened. Not a sound reached him save the peaceful breathing of his companions. That appeared to put an idea into Toms head. With a malicious smile, he tiptoed across to the lobsters, took one gingerly in each hand, and descended to the stateroom. There he placed the lobsters in the middle of the space between the berths, where they would each show to the best advantage, kicked off his sneakers, carefully closed the hatch and the doors, and finally crept back to bed. Once under the covers, he threw his arms out and yawned loudly. That not having the desired effect, he called sleepily to Dan:
Time to get up, Dan! Its most half-past seven! Da-a-an!
Huh?
Time to get up, you lazy chump!
Wha-what time is it? asked Dan fretfully.
Oh, its late; most half-past seven, answered Tom.
Is it? There was quiet for a moment. Then Dan sat up resolutely, stared drowsily about him and tumbled out of bed. As luck would have it, one bare foot landed plump on the cold, slippery back of the nearest lobster. The lobster rolled over, and so did Dan. There was a shriek, and Dan, staring in horrified dismay at the cause of his upset, tried to retreat into Bobs berth.
That annoyed Bob, who, half awake, struck out at the invader and again sent him sprawling. This time it was the other lobster that Dan came into contact with, and both went rolling up against the locker under Nelsons berth. But it didnt take Dan long to pick himself up, and once on his feet he made haste to get off them by sinking into Nelsons arms and waving them wildly in air.
By that time the stateroom rang with laughter and Barrys barking. Dan curled his feet up under him and, after making certain that neither of the lobsters had attached themselves to him, joined his laughter with the rest. On the floor the lobsters, justly indignant, or, as Tom remarked, a bit peeved, were waving their claws and trying to get back on their feet again. At last Nelson stopped laughing and turned a puzzled countenance to Bob.
Whered they come from? he asked.
Eh? asked Bob.
By Jove! cried Dan.
Tom only stared his bewilderment.
Nelson looked suspiciously at the others, but Dan and Bob were each in pyjamas, and so, of course, must be Tommy, although the covers still reached to just below his wondering countenance.
They must have come aboard last night, said Dan.
But the doors are closed, said Bob.
Through the ports, then?
Poppycock! said Nelson. Lobsters cant climb. Some one must
Maybe there was a high tide last night, suggested Tom.
Whats that got to do with it, Id like to know? Bob demanded.
Why, maybe the water came up to the port lights and the lobsters were swimming on the surface, and they saw Dan and mistook him for a long-lost brother
Tommy, if you call me a lobster, Ill hammer you! Look at the ugly, crawly things! Ugh! Some one throw em overboard!
Some smart chump must have opened the door and tossed them in here last night, said Nelson thoughtfully. Or maybe this morning.
More likely this morning, said Bob. And probably the person, whoever he was, dropped them in through the ports.
Thats so, said Tom, a trifle too eagerly. Bet you thats just what happened!
Bob looked at him in dawning suspicion.
Think thats the way of it, do you, Tommy? he asked. Tom nodded, but didnt seem to care to look at the questioner.
Maybe a fisherman was going by, he elaborated, and saw us all asleep in here, and thought it would be a good joke
Is that so? cried Bob, leaning over and jerking the bedclothes from Tom. Youre a very smart little boy, arent you?
Dan made a leap and landed astride the culprit.
You did it, you grinning idiot! he cried, shaking Tom back and forth.
Honest, Du-du-du-dan! gurgled Tom. I I
Honest, you what? demanded Dan, letting up for an instant.
Did! squealed Tom. Then chaos reigned and blankets waved as Dan and Tom rolled about the narrow berth. Youd bu-bu-bu-better lemme up! panted Tom, or I wont cu-cu-cook you any bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-breakfast!
Apologize? asked Dan.
But at that moment a terrific yelping drowned the question. Barry had left the foot of Bobs berth and proceeded to investigate the visitors on the floor. The natural thing had happened, and Barry was jumping about with a pound and a half of lobster attached to one of his front paws. Hostilities between Dan and Tom were forgotten and everyone rushed to Barrys rescue. It was Nelson who finally released the dog and tossed the two troublesome guests up into the cockpit. Barrys paw was badly pinched, but not seriously damaged, and after he had licked it for five minutes steadily he was apparently willing to call the episode closed.
What did you bring those things in here for, demanded Nelson, and where did you get them?
Tom explained the manner of acquiring the prizes, and said that he was going to cook them.
Cook them! shrieked Dan. Why, they arent fit to cook; theyre green as grass! Theyre probably spoiled!
This feezed Tom until Bob explained that live lobsters were always more or less green, and that it was boiling them that made them red. But Dan remained antagonistic to the plan of eating them.
I wouldnt touch one of them for a hundred dollars, he declared. I dont believe theyre lobsters at all.
Tom was hurt.
They are, tu-tu-too! he asserted indignantly. I gu-gu-got em from a lobster fisher, and saw him pu-pu-pu-pull em up.
Oh, you get out! Whos going to believe you, Tommy? You run along and get breakfast.
Thats so, said Nelson. Youre in disgrace, Tommy, and youll have to cook us something pretty nice if you expect to be forgiven.
Something nice! growled Tom. What do you expect? Spanish omelet and sirloin steak?
I dont care what we have, replied Dan, but I want mine fried on both sides.
Me too, added Nelson.
Tom left them to their dressing and took himself off to the corner of the engine room where the stove and sink and ice box were located, and which he had nautically dubbed the galley. Here he busied himself, chuckling now and then over the lobster episode, until Barrys frantic barking took him to the door. He looked out and then called to the others. The lobsters, quite still now, as though wearied by their recent experiences, were lying side by side near the after locker. In front of them, a safe two feet away, stood Barry. His tail there was only a bare two inches of it wagged violently, the hair stood up along the middle of his back and neck, and he was daring the lobsters to mortal combat. Finding himself reinforced by the quartet of laughing boys at the door, he grew very brave and began a series of wild dashes at the enemy, barking hysterically.
Anybody want to eat them? asked Bob finally.
Nobody seemed enthusiastic, and Bob heaved them over the side. There goes your fifty cents, Tommy, he said. Tom glanced at Dan and grinned.