Then, all at once, the tentacles relaxed, falling away as slack as seaweed.

The barracouta, nearly spent, swam off without even waiting to say 'Thank you.' And Little Sword coming to his senses as he realized his victory, rose slowly out of the area of the ink cloud.

He knew that the Inkmaker's flesh was very good to eat, and he merely waited for the cloud to settle before making a meal which would completely satisfy his vengeance." The Babe was thoughtful for a few moments after Uncle Andy stopped speaking.

At length he said positively: "I'm glad we don't have any Inkmakers, either, in the lake." "Umph!" grunted Uncle Andy, "there are lots of things we don't have that we can very well do without.".