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“I’ll get that boat-hook,” said Johnny, jumping on board the “Sea Mew.”

“Well, I’ll poke her out,” said Eric.

“No, I will,” said Johnny.

They disputed over this a long time.

“You must remember I got the boat-hook,” urged Johnny.

Finally they agreed to take turns poking at the crab, but it would not budge. It lay as if it were nailed fast to the rocks.

“Get out of that, you old grandmother!”

Johnny Blossom grew more and more excited. He stood on the tip end of the plank that extended out over the water.

“There! Now!” Eric cheered him on. “Reach farther out, Bub! She’s stirring a little. Farther out, I say.”

Splash! There lay Johnny Blossom and the boat-hook in the water. Oh, how angry he was! “Ugh—Ugh!” he sputtered.

Dropping the boat-hook, he swam the couple of strokes that would bring him to the wharf, and climbed up.

“Ugh, how wet I am!” said Johnny, and then,

“Catch that boat-hook there!” he shouted, as it floated almost to the edge of the wharf.

No—Eric could not catch the boat-hook—and there was no boat for them to go after it in; so Johnny Blossom had to jump into the water again, catch the boat-hook, and swim to shore with it. Ugh! how sopping wet he was!

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