Fortunately, his charge was moderate. Had it been otherwise they might
have had to stay in Eastport until financial succour reached them, for
the exchequer was almost depleted.
They found a letter from Neil among the mail that was awaiting them at
Eastport. Neil was evidently down on his luck and begged for news of the
club. He got it in the shape of an eight-page epistle from Phil.
Perry made a close study of the sardine industry and laid gorgeous plans
for conducting a similar venture on the banks of the Delaware when he
returned home. "You see," he explained, "a sardine is just whatever you
like to call it in this country. I used to think that a sardine had to
come from Sardinia."
"From where?" asked Ossie, the recipient of Perry's confidences.
"Sardinia."
"Where's that?"
"I dunno. Spain, I think. Or maybe Italy. Somewhere over there." He
waved a hand carelessly in the general direction of Grand Manan.
"Anyway, there's nothing to it. A man told me this morning that the
sardines they use here are baby herring or menhaden or--or something
else. I guess most any fish is a sardine here if it's young enough.
Unless it's a whale. Now why couldn't you use minnows? There are heaps
of minnows in the Delaware River.
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