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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Nothin' like that could happen. They're off there!" He waved his hand toward where the mysterious schooner had been anchored. "What makes you think so?" asked Allen, after the crabber had spoken of his belief, and mentioned the absence of the schooner as evidence. "Because that vessel has been hanging around here on purpose to work off some such scheme as that!
Having spent a dollar for six steamed crabs a few nights before, he was also amazed to hear the crabber report that he received only six dollars a bushel for "jumbo" crabs and three dollars a bushel for "culls," or medium ones. All under four and a half inches from tip to tip were thrown back.
He came up as they were making a second examination of the cabin, to discover some other evidence of the former presence of Betty and Amy there. "The girls missin'!" exclaimed the old crabber. "Wa'al, there's only one place t' look fer 'em!" "Where's that?" asked Mrs. Nelson. "Not not " "No'm, they're not drowned, don't fear that, mum," said Tin-Back, with ready perception.
With the binoculars Rick and Steve had brought, that made three pairs each. The crabber swung the boat around expertly and headed upstream. The sky was light now, and far overhead a wisp of cirrus was glowing pink, a warning of coming sunrise. Rick sat on the gunwale and looked ahead. The creek narrowed for a few hundred yards, then widened again.
Then, with a final farewell to Steve, the boys got aboard Orvil's boat, secured the runabout to the stern, and started off. On the way to Swamp Creek, Rick and Scotty described their plan to the crabber. Harris slapped his thigh. "Now we're gettin' somewhere. You just lay the pole and rope up on the gunwale as I go by, and leave the rest to me.
As Rick watched, a piece of bait came up with a crab clinging to it. The net swooped and the crab was caught, pulled inboard, and dumped into a bushel basket with one fluid motion. The crabber never took his eyes from the cord. The boat continued in a straight line. Scotty came out on deck and joined Rick.
Once, Orvil passed within a few feet of him, and Rick wondered if the crabber had noticed the air bubbles from his regulator. Rising ground told Rick he had reached the end of the cove. He turned left and held his course for about twenty feet, then turned left again, heading back toward the cove entrance. His hands never stopped moving, probing the mud for a trace of fish line.
It's a hell of a town but it's got some fine wimmen; yes, and a few straight banks, too. You're no crabber or piker; I can see that. You go to the North Star. Tell Frank that Jakey sent you. They'll treat you white. You be sure and say Jakey sent you. But for Gawd's sake keep out of the Big Tent." "The Big Tent?" I uttered. "Why so?" "They'll sweat you there," he groaned lugubriously.
"Looks like good fishing over there near the island," he observed after a pause. "Tain't so much for fishin' as crabbin'," returned the other. "Crabbing!" repeated Mr. Heatherbloom. "A grand sport! Now if are you a crabber?" The darky confessed that crabbing was his main occupation; his boat swung right over there; for a dollar he would give the other several hours' diversion. Mr.
Using a lever next to him, he turned the boat and headed toward another can some distance away. A quick pull with a boat hook and the line attached to the can was placed over the roller. Crabs appeared, holding onto the bait as the boat moved along the new line. Rick counted. The crabber was getting about one crab for every three baits. Scotty leaned over the cockpit rail.
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