cautiously, "but I was so busy haulin' up my pots an' emptyin' 'em that I didn't notice it right away, an' you know," he added gravely, "a horn won't float."
"Hum," remarked Widdy, as he took back what was left of the plug of tobacco. The gasolene was handed down into the small craft, and the lobsterman insisted on giving Dick a generous portion of his catch in payment therefor.
"Ho, for some lobster salad!" cried the young millionaire, as he held up by the back a squirming crustacean. "Hans, get busy making about a peck of mayonnaise dressing."
"Yah! I dresses dot sea-bug all right!" exclaimed the cook with a grin. "I knows how to fix dem!"
The lobsterman started his gasolene engine, and "put-putted" off through the fog, seeming to get his bearings instinctively. He called a good-by, and once more started his fog-horn song.
"Well, I wish we'd meet such mermaids every day in the week," commented Paul Drew, as he looked at the pile of lobsters on deck, for he, too, was very fond of them.
The Albatross, which had been hove to on meeting the small craft, was once more sent slowly forward. The fog lifted about two hours later, and the speed was increased. There was a fine supper aboard Dick's yacht that night, and even the crew had lobster salad, as a sort of side dish with their pork and beans.
