Just then, the two mermen heard the sound of oars slapping the water right before a boat glided into the bay. Standing above the prow was Captain Horace Grant, the owner of another ship that often docked nearby. Instead of his ship, though, he and his men were using one of their lifeboats, scanning the water for something.
“Keep an eye out, lads,” Captain Horace bellowed to his men. “That’s Uncle Ezekial Flint’s ship over there and I heard a splash not too long ago, which means he and his idiot brother are probably half-drowning themselves right now trying to turn into fish again!”
“You’d think they’d learn after the last time,” another man grumbled under his breath.
“Is Uncle really part of his name, captain?” One of the rowers asked.
“I’m not sure,” Horace admitted. “But it does make things really confusing when Johnny talks about him. Now, keep looking!”
Meanwhile, Johnny and Ezekial ducked under to resurface behind the boat out of sight of the attempted rescue. “What do we do?” Johnny asked, turning to his brother.
“Hm,” Ezekial thought it over.