The lobsters were in the bottom of the tender, and as he rowed back to the launch Tom was careful to keep his feet out of their reach. When he had made fast and carefully lifted the lobsters on board, he put his head into the engine room and listened. Not a sound reached him save the peaceful breathing of his companions. That appeared to put an idea into Tom’s head. With a malicious smile, he tiptoed across to the lobsters, took one gingerly in each hand, and descended to the stateroom. There he placed the lobsters in the middle of the space between the berths, where they would each show to the best advantage, kicked off his sneakers, carefully closed the hatch and the doors, and finally crept back to bed. Once under the covers, he threw his arms out and yawned loudly. That not having the desired effect, he called sleepily to Dan: “Time to get up, Dan! It’s most half-past seven! _Da-a-an!_” “Huh?” “Time to get up, you lazy chump!” “Wha-what time is it?” asked Dan fretfully. “Oh, it’s late; most half-past seven,” answered Tom. “Is it?” There was quiet for a moment. Then Dan sat up resolutely, stared drowsily about him and tumbled out of bed. As luck would have it, one bare foot landed plump on the cold, slippery back of the nearest lobster. The lobster rolled over, and so did Dan. There was a shriek, and Dan, staring in horrified dismay at the cause of his upset, tried to retreat into Bob’s berth. That annoyed Bob, who, half awake, struck out at the invader and again sent him sprawling. This time it was the other lobster that Dan came into contact with, and both went rolling up against the locker under Nelson’s berth. But it didn’t take Dan long to pick himself up, and once on his feet he made haste to get off them by sinking into Nelson’s arms and waving them wildly in air. By that time the stateroom rang with laughter and Barry’s barking. Dan curled his feet up under him and, after making certain that neither of the lobsters had attached themselves to him, joined his laughter with the rest. On the floor the lobsters, justly indignant, or, as Tom remarked, “a bit peeved,” were waving their claws and trying to get back on their feet again. At last Nelson stopped laughing and turned a puzzled countenance to Bob. “Where’d they come from?” he asked. “Eh?” asked Bob. “By Jove!” cried Dan. Tom only stared his bewilderment. Nelson looked suspiciously at the others, but Dan and Bob were each in pyjamas, and so, of course, must be Tommy, although the covers still reached to just below his wondering countenance. “They must have come aboard last night,” said Dan. “But the doors are closed,” said Bob. “Through the ports, then?” “Poppycock!” said Nelson. “Lobsters can’t climb. Some one must——” “Maybe there was a high tide last night,” suggested Tom. “What’s that got to do with it, I’d like to know?” Bob demanded.