digging my fingers down in one of old Blackbeard's chests and raking out gold by the handful?" he demanded as soon as he took in the situation. "I'd been a millionaire in just 'bout two more minutes."
"Maybe that's what that slick Legs is up to, without dreaming," suggested the other. "Look! He's flew the coop."
Cat surveyed Legs's vacant bunk, bounced from his own bed, and rushed to take a look at the ocean from the window.
"Don't see him in," announced the observer. "But golly, Jimmy, Tom Hardy's sunball looks red and funny, and the sea's got some nifty jell to her today. I b'lieve old Buffum's barometer's working. We'll get some surf today, boy, sure!"
The aid was tepid and soft, with a brisk breeze blowing. The waves that the day before had washed the beach languidly and rolled back just as lazily, this morning were splashing away in hurly-burly fashion.
"We sure will," agreed Jimmy, planting himself by his companion. "But where you s'pose Legs is. Can't be more'n seven o'clock. Not near breakfast time yet. Let's raise the roof."
