Navy Boys Behind the Big Guns | Page 9

a sly wink, but only said crisply:
"I don't know about it. I was going to wash the store windows. Where
are Whistler and Torry going?"
"As far as Blue Reef. They say the bass are schoolin' out there."
"They'd better be on the lookout for subs, as far out as the Reef," Ikey
said solemnly. "I don't believe they've got this coast half patrolled. We
don't often see one of those chasers in the cove here."
"Mebbe we'll catch a submarine instead of bass," remarked Frenchy.
"You petter go along mit your friends in dot catboat, Ikey," said Mr.
Rosenmeyer, who was listening with both ears and his eyes wide open.
"If there iss one of them German submarines in dese waters idt shouldt
be known yet. Ain't that right?"
"Yes. We'd have to report it, Papa, to the naval authorities," admitted
Ikey seriously.
"Vell, you go right along den," urged his father. "Nefer mindt yet de
winders. I can get a winder washer easy."
"Well, if you don't mind, Papa," said Ikey, with commendable
hesitancy.
"Come along, Ikey," urged Frenchy under his breath. "And be sure you
bring along your submarine tackle--I mean your bass rod," and he
rolled out of the store, chuckling to himself.
"Undt take a lunch, Ikey!" cried Mr. Rosenmeyer after his son. "Ham,
undt bologna, undt cheese, undt there's some fine dill pickles----"
"Oh, my!" groaned his son. "No dill pickles."
He joined Frenchy in a few minutes with a basket crammed with things

to eat, as well as his fishing tackle. It was not far to Bridger's float, off
which the twenty-four-foot catboat, Sue Bridger, was moored.
Ikey remarked: "Sometimes I almost faint when I see the change in
papa. He never wanted me to have a bit of fun before. He didn't have
no fun when he was a boy. He always worked. That is the German way,
he says.
"But he don't have any use for anything German now--not even the way
they bring up children."
"Ain't it a fact?" chuckled Frenchy. "Me mother makes the kids git up
and give me the best chair when I come into the sitting room.
'Git up out o' that, Ye impident brat! An' let Mr. M'Ginnis sit down.'
That's the way she treats me. Me head's gettin' that swelled I couldn't
draw a watch cap down over me ears."
The exhaust of the auxiliary engine of the catboat was spitting when
Frenchy hailed their mates. Whistler was loosening the points of the big
sail while Torry worked at the engine.
"How'll we get over there?" demanded Ikey. "There's no boat here."
Whistler Morgan, barefooted and with his sleeves rolled up, came aft
and tossed Ikey the end of a coil of line.
"Draw her in to the float. I'll pay out the mooring cable. What have you
in that basket?"
"A litter of pups a neighbor wants him to drown," answered Frenchy
solemnly. "You fellows brought lunch enough for all, didn't you?"
"Couldn't get any at my house," Al confessed. "The girl's on a strike."
There was no mother at the Torrance house, and sometimes the
housekeeping there was "at sixes and sevens."

"I was going to get some crackers and sardines," confessed Whistler. "I
had no idea we could get this boat when I left the house. But I can run
up and get Alice to put us up a snack."
Frenchy was carrying Ikey's basket very carefully--indeed, lovingly. He
allowed his mate to catch the line and draw the Sue Bridger in to the
float alone.
They stepped aboard, and Al made a grab for the basket handle with his
greasy hands. "Let's see the pups," he demanded suspiciously.
"Have a care! Have a care!" cried Whistler as the two struggled for
possession of the basket. "What is in it, Ikey?"
"Oi, oi! Oi, oi!" moaned Ikey. "They will the basket haf overboard yet!
Stop it! Stop it!"
It was Whistler who rescued the lunch basket with a firm hand. In the
struggle Frenchy came near going overboard, but he fell into the bilge
in the bottom of the boat instead.
"Wow!" he yelled. "Me clean pants! This old tub is leaking like a sieve,
Whistler!"
Whistler and Al were peeping into the basket. Their delight was
acclaimed at once.
"Good boy, Ikey!" declared Torry, smacking his lips. "You must have
robbed the whole delicatessen shop."
"You don't know my papa," declared Ikey with pride. "He would like to
feed the whole American Navy--that's the way he feels about it."
"He's all right," agreed Torry. "Come on, now, fellows, let's stir around.
The best of the day will be gone soon. Don't worry about your wet
pants, Frenchy. Get up and pump out the bilge. She hasn't been used for
a fortnight,