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Updated: June 4, 2025
And for him the wrecked ship gave up the last of its stores, cannibals danced, beacons were lighted, stockades built, and there swept in upon that East Side kitchen a breeze that was off the Southern Seas. Shortly after the evening meal a night or two later, One-Eye knocked, finding Johnnie up to his elbows in the dishpan, while Barber smoked and Cis dried the supper plates.
"Someone has stolen my diamond-studded gold dishpan," explained Cayke, "and as I cannot be happy without it, I have decided to search the world over until I find it again. The Frogman, who is very learned and wonderfully wise, has come with me to give me his assistance. Isn't it kind of him?" The King looked at the Frogman. "What makes you so wonderfully wise?" he asked.
"Oh dear!" cried Curly one morning, before his papa, Mr. Twistytail, the pig gentleman, had started for work. "Oh dear, how dreadful I feel!" "Why, what is the matter?" asked his papa, as he looked in the back of the shiny dishpan to see if his collar was on straight. "Oh, my arm hurts so!" went on Curly. "It all seems swelled up, and it has a lump under it and I don't feel a bit good. Oh dear!"
"It is and they are, but I couldn't get 'em off any other way, and I'll bet I won't be able to get another pair on inside a month. Lordy, man, did you ever think natural-born feet would swell like that?" "You better soak them awhile," said Jack Richie. "C'mon out to the kitchen." "Shore feels good," said Racey, when his swelled feet were immersed in a dishpan half full of tepid water.
"Our plan," explained the Frogman in his important way, "is to travel from place to place until we learn where the thief is located and then to force him to return the dishpan to its proper owner." "The plan is all right," agreed the woman, "but it may take you a long time before you succeed, your method being sort of haphazard and indefinite. However, I advise you to travel toward the east."
Clarette turned to drive the children away and in the act allowed Patsy and Ajo to glance past her into the hut. There stood little Maurie, sleeves rolled above his elbows, bending over a battered dishpan where he was washing a mess of cracked and broken pottery. He met their gaze with a despairing countenance and a gesture of appeal that scattered a spray of suds from big wet fingers.
He was still standing in the doorway when the Frogman approached and said with a haughty croak, "Tell me, my good man, have you seen a diamond-studded gold dishpan?" "No, nor have I seen a copper-plated lobster," replied Wiljon in an equally haughty tone. The Frogman stared at him and said, "Do not be insolent, fellow!"
"Poof!" grunted the Frogman scornfully; "I am greater than any wizard. Depend on me. If your dishpan is anywhere in the world I am sure to find it." "If you do not, my heart will be broken," declared the Cookie Cook in a sorrowful voice. For a while the Frogman walked on in silence. Then he asked: "Why do you attach so much importance to a dishpan?"
Without rousing Langdon the young packer slipped on his boots and waded back a quarter of a mile through the heavy dew to round up the horses. When he returned he brought Dishpan and their saddle-horses with him. By that time Langdon was up, and starting a fire. Langdon frequently reminded himself that such mornings as this had made him disappoint the doctors and rob the grave.
She was going along, hippity-hop, just as Sister Sallie went to the barber shop, when all of a sudden something whizzed right past the nose of Brighteyes and almost hit her. "My goodness me, sakes alive and a tin dishpan! What's that?" she exclaimed. "I wonder if it could have been that June bug who told Buddy stories so nicely?"
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