“Eight hundred dollars? Wow, that’s a lot of money,” I said.
“Well, it was a lot of money,” Ben said sheepishly. “I repaid some money I owed, and I’m afraid I spent the rest at the Tipsy Pirate. Oh well, easy come, easy go.”
Scooter set the paper bag down and inspected the compass. “I wonder how that got in there?” Mrs. Moto stuck her paw into the sandwich bag and tried to fish one of the sandwiches out. Scooter seized the bag from her. He looked at the cat, then back at me. “Remember how you left your purse by the anchor locker when we had sundowners? Well, I think I know how the compass might have found its way out of your purse and into the anchor locker.” He pointed at the calico. She meowed and twined herself around Scooter’s legs. I’d like to say she looked guilty, but we all know
