“Why—er—ah—why those are my initials,” stuttered the amazed Jack Straw, “but—but—how did you come to know them?”
“O-ho-ho-ho, Mister Innercent, ’ow did I come t’ know? Why I got yer watch as you so kindly left hin my traps, I did.”
“My watch?—in your traps?” exclaimed Jack.
“I says a ’ow I found hit in my traps, ye pirut. Yes.”
“Why—why—but how did it get there? It wasn’t my watch you found. I’m sure of it.”
“O-ho-ho-ho, hit wasn’t ’is watch. O-ho-ho, blow me ef ’e ain’t tryin’ t’ joke me. Looke ’er, young feller, you jest says a ’ow yer ’nitials is J. S. an’ bein’s I found ’e a-’aulin’ o’ my lobster traps hit ain’t no doubt as you’r t’ guilty party, ’specially as ’ow I found t’ watch hin my trap. Oh, I figgered hit hall hout. You ’ad t’ trap hup on t’ side o’ t’ dory an’ arter you ’ad got finished a-pinchin’ t’ lobsters as belongs t’ me overboard you shoves t’ trap wi’ t’ chain o’ yer watch caught hin t’ net. Hout slips yer watch an’ you bein’ hexcited an’ hin a ’urry never misses hit till you gets ’ome. Then you sez, ‘Where about ’ave I left my watch?’ an’ you don’t know, see?”
“Why, that’s all wrong,” said Jack. “I never stole any of your lobsters and besides my watch hasn’t disappeared.”
“Looke ’ere, you young pirut, hif this ain’t your watch then show me your watch.” The old lobsterman held up a big silver timepiece attached to a silver chain.
“Pshaw, no; mine’s gold,” said Jack, feeling in his watch pocket. Then suddenly the expression on the lad’s face changed. “Why—why—it’s gone; where on earth—what has happened to my watch?”
“O-ho-ho. E-he-he, what’s ’appened to ’is watch. T’ blomin’ pirut. Why ’ere hit his, lad; ’ere hit his.”