Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 16, 2025
Rick cut corners, knowing he had enough water under the keel, heading directly for the creek entrance. Scotty came back to the cockpit and joined him. "Do you suppose Orvil Harris will be around?" Rick shrugged. "It's pretty late for a crabber. He's probably gone by now." "I wonder if he'll ever see any flying stingarees come out of the creek." Rick shook his head.
"Two items from the morning's work," Scotty summed up. "We know how the mansion can be watched, and we have an odd kind of antenna. Anything else?" "We have an ally," Rick reminded. "Orvil Harris." "We bought him on pure faith," Steve pointed out. "It isn't often I stake the game on a man's face, but if Orvil Harris isn't a sound individual, I'll lose my faith in human nature."
There was a slight gleam from the masks even in the darkness. As he came alongside, the boys held the pole overhead, water churning under their flippers. Orvil bent and took it, lifted it on board, and continued on his path. The boys went under again, operating on a prearranged plan. This time they swam side by side, hands searching for the fish line.
Rick turned, eyes wide. Suddenly he was no longer sleepy. "Did you hear that? He said to stay away from the creek and the house, or our crab-catching buddy would be turned into crab food!" "He must have meant Orvil Harris!" Scotty exclaimed. "Rick, let's get going!" The boys started for the door at a run, but Rick stopped as his eye caught the rocket. "Check the gas," he told Scotty.
Steve said nothing for a moment, then he headed directly toward the crabber. As the two boats closed, Harris paused in his crabbing and watched the three in the runabout approach. Steve matched the crab boat's speed and nudged the runabout alongside. "Howdy," he called. Orvil Harris reached out and caught the runabout's gunwale, then took the line Rick passed to him.
A fifth and sixth basket were half full, one with very large crabs, the other with smaller ones. The crabber swung aboard. He was of medium height, with light-blue eyes set in a tanned and weather-beaten face. Rick guessed his age to be somewhere in the mid-forties. He smiled, showing even teeth that were glaringly white in his tanned face. "Name's Orvil Harris," he announced. "Rick Brant."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking