“Why, maybe the water came up to the port lights and the lobsters were swimming on the surface, and they saw Dan and mistook him for a long-lost brother——” “Tommy, if you call me a lobster, I’ll hammer you! Look at the ugly, crawly things! Ugh! Some one throw ’em overboard!” “Some smart chump must have opened the door and tossed them in here last night,” said Nelson thoughtfully. “Or maybe this morning.” “More likely this morning,” said Bob. “And probably the person, whoever he was, dropped them in through the ports.” “That’s so,” said Tom, a trifle too eagerly. “Bet you that’s just what happened!” Bob looked at him in dawning suspicion. “Think that’s the way of it, do you, Tommy?” he asked. Tom nodded, but didn’t seem to care to look at the questioner. “Maybe a fisherman was going by,” he elaborated, “and saw us all asleep in here, and thought it would be a good joke——” “Is that so?” cried Bob, leaning over and jerking the bedclothes from Tom. “You’re a very smart little boy, aren’t you?” Dan made a leap and landed astride the culprit. “You did it, you grinning idiot!” he cried, shaking Tom back and forth. “Honest, Du-du-du-dan!” gurgled Tom. “I—I——” “Honest, you what?” demanded Dan, letting up for an instant. “Did!” squealed Tom. Then chaos reigned and blankets waved as Dan and Tom rolled about the narrow berth. “You’d bu-bu-bu-better lemme up!” panted Tom, “or I won’t cu-cu-cook you any bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-breakfast!” “Apologize?” asked Dan. But at that moment a terrific yelping drowned the question. Barry had left the foot of Bob’s berth and proceeded to investigate the visitors on the floor. The natural thing had happened, and Barry was jumping about with a pound and a half of lobster attached to one of his front paws. Hostilities between Dan and Tom were forgotten and everyone rushed to Barry’s rescue. It was Nelson who finally released the dog and tossed the two troublesome guests up into the cockpit. Barry’s paw was badly pinched, but not seriously damaged, and after he had licked it for five minutes steadily he was apparently willing to call the episode closed. “What did you bring those things in here for,” demanded Nelson, “and where did you get them?” Tom explained the manner of acquiring the prizes, and said that he was going to cook them. “Cook them!” shrieked Dan. “Why, they aren’t fit to cook; they’re green as grass! They’re probably spoiled!” This feezed Tom until Bob explained that live lobsters were always more or less green, and that it was boiling them that made them red. But Dan remained antagonistic to the plan of eating them. “I wouldn’t touch one of them for a hundred dollars,” he declared. “I don’t believe they’re lobsters at all.” Tom was hurt. “They are, tu-tu-too!” he asserted indignantly. “I gu-gu-got ’em from a lobster fisher, and saw him pu-pu-pu-pull ’em up.” “Oh, you get out! Who’s going to believe you, Tommy? You run along and get breakfast.”