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Updated: June 4, 2025
With one sweep of his arm Frank drew the little fellow into the dinghy. Then he snatched up his paddle, and dipped it deeply into the flood. The corklike boat answered instantly to the demand, and backed away from the side of the anchored sharpie. Even though but a few seconds had passed, the racket aboard the boat had become tremendous by now.
Sharpie and Ralph Stewart were quite the best at looking after themselves, and carried more gear than all the rest of us put together. At Syderstone Common an inquisitive general ordered the tarpaulin to be taken off the General Service wagon, and the first things which caught his eye were Sharpie's tennis racket and golf clubs.
The snow was practically a brig, carrying a fore-and-aft sail on the mainmast, with a square sail directly above it. A pink was rigged like a schooner, but without a bowsprit or jib. For the fisheries a multitude of smaller types were constructed such as the lugger, the shallop, the sharpie, the bug-eye, the smack.
No damage resulted, and Frank believed the incident was closed, at least as far as immediate results went. He now headed directly for the motor-boat, the swinging lantern guiding him. Those on the sharpie could be heard talking loudly, as though endeavoring to get the truth of the affair, and doubtless making terrible threats as to what they would do to the audacious invader later on.
As for the boy, he was smiling as if tickled over the wonderful change that had come about in his fortunes. Frank, remembering the limp form squatting in the stern of the sharpie, so given up to despair and bodily anguish, could hardly believe that this bright-faced lad was the same. They did not linger long after finishing breakfast.
It was but natural that Robin and Marjorie should compete one against the other, for they were riding together and talked together. So presently Mr. Thomas called to them, and beckoned them to their places. Robin set aside Agnes on to the cadge and chose Magdalen, and Marjorie chose Sharpie. The array was set, and all moved forward. It was a short chase and a merry one.
So the Doctor and Olive went ashore, where the sharpie was tied to the end of what had once been a small wharf, while Dodo, Nat, and Rap crouched down in the dingey, obeying Olaf's order to keep very still and not make the boat tip. The little reed-bordered creek that they entered was quite narrow, and soon grew to be only a thread of water, where they could touch the reeds on both sides.
As they came out from behind the key they discovered the sharpie far away to the west, careening over under a brisk morning breeze, and looking like a dun-colored frightened bird. "We're not apt to see anything of that tough lot again, I guess," quoth Jerry. "They're heading for a favorite ground. I didn't know they hunted sponges so far north, Joe.
Those on the sharpie may have been extremely reckless in thus spreading their canvas to the favoring wind before the fog had lifted enough to allow a decent lookout, but they had some thought for their own safety, however little they cared for that of others. Hearing the clamor dead ahead, the fellow at the tiller managed to suddenly shift the course of the advancing boat, and just in time.
But Dodo thought that he was joking, and as soon as they were in the sharpie she whispered: "Uncle Roy, you must tell me four tables Olaf knows the birds by sight, but he doesn't make them sound as distinct as you do in the telling." "So missy is flattering her old bird man! Well, tell me the names, for I suppose you can remember them."
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