They had
work to do out there on the fishing-banks. It was probable they reasoned
that it was not their fault that these young people had fallen in their
way. They had dutifully rescued them from watery graves--or, in the case
of Hodge and Merriwell--had permitted them to rescue themselves. And
thus, whatever obligation they may have been under as fellow human
beings had been fully discharged. They did not want Merriwell's
money--and they certainly did not desire to run to New York. It was not
their habit to visit New York. Sea Cove was their home, and, whenever
they pulled up their rusty anchor for a run from the banks, they
returned to Sea Cove invariably, unless blown out of their latitude by a
storm, as sometimes happened.
Finally one of them wrote:
"See in morning."
"And now we'll have something to eat!" Inza declared. "Both of you are
famished. You are getting thawed out and dry, and if your stomachs are
strong enough to stand the odor of things, I'll go ahead and get some
supper for you. I know where everything is in the--what do you call
it?--locker? Peleg, that's the taller one, showed me."
"Peleg must be sweet on you," remarked Frank, laughing.
She picked up a "spider" and shook it at him.
"Don't trouble the cook, Mr. Merriwell, if you expect to get anything to
eat!"
"I was just going to remark that I admired his taste.
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