Hullo! if there isn't Dick Lee, in his dry-goods box.

That boat'll drown him some day, and his dad too.

But just see him pull in crabs!" Ford came near "catching" one more as he tried to turn around for the look proposed, exclaiming,-- "Dab, let's get to work as quick as we can.

They might go away." "Might fly ?" "No; but don't they go and come ?" "Well, you go and drop the grapnel over the bows, and we'll see 'em come in pretty quick." The grapnel, or little anchor, was thrown over quickly enough; and the two boys were in such an eager haste that they had hardly a word to say to Dick, though he was now but a few rods away.
Now, it happened that when Ford and Dab came down to the water that morning, each of them had brought a load.

The former had only a neat little japanned tin box, about as big as his head; and the latter, besides his oars, carried a seemingly pretty heavy basket.
"Lots of lunch, I should say," had been Ford's mental comment; but he had not thought it wise to ask questions.
"Plenty of lunch in that box," thought Dab at the same moment, but only as a matter of course.
And they were both wrong.