"
"Ay, ay, Captain Torchy," says Old Hickory. "Here we are, with a
smiling reception committee to greet us, as usual."
There was five in the scrubbin' squad, includin' the second mate, a
pie-faced Swede by the name of Nelse; and, while they seems mighty busy
with pails and mops and brass polishers, I notice they all manages to
drift over to our side of the yacht. You couldn't exactly accuse them
of wearin' grins, but they did look as though something amusin' had
occurred recent. Which shows we was still doin' duty as human jokes.
But that's just what I makes my play on.
As soon as I can dash up the landin' steps, I beckons the second mate
to follow me aft.
"Call your bunch back here, too," says I, "So there'll be no bonehead
plays made."
Then, when I gets 'em together, I tips Nelse the knowin' wink.
"You ain't supposed to know a thing about what's been goin' on
to-night, eh?" I asks.
Nelse, he shrugs his shoulders.
"Aye yust know about work," says he, lyin' free and easy.
"That's a swell motto to pin on the wall," says I. "But listen, Nelse,
while I put a case to you. Suppose, now, you'd been tipped off that if
you dug under a certain bush in a certain back yard you'd find--well,
something worth luggin' away? Ah, never mind shakin' your head! This
is only supposin'.
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