“Oh, I’m bit!  I’m bit!” he cried.  “Something pinched me!”

And then, as he looked at the kitchen floor, he cried: 

“Oh, come quick!  Come quick!  They’re loose!  They’re all loose!”

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE BOAT

Every one out on the porch of the bungalow jumped up on hearing Russ’s cries.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mother Bunker.

“What happened?” Daddy Bunker wanted to know.

“Oh, they’re all loose, and one of ’em bit me,” wailed Russ, and now came sounds which seemed to indicate that he was hopping about on one foot, and holding the other in his hands.  And he really was doing this, as they found out afterward.

“Loose?  They’re all loose?  What does he mean?” asked Rose.

“It’s the crabs!” exclaimed Cousin Tom, as he made a run for the kitchen.  “I guess some of them got out of the basket.  They will do that once in a while.”

Daddy and Mother Bunker, with Cousin Ruth, followed Cousin Tom to the kitchen, where Russ was still hopping about and yelling: 

“Oh, they’re all loose!  They’re all loose, and one of ’em pinched me!  Oh, dear!”

“Don’t cry, silly little boy!” called his mother.  “A pinch by a crab can’t hurt as much as that.”

“Oh, but it hurts like anything!” yelled Russ.  “He ’most bit off my big toe!”

By this time they were all in the kitchen.  The rest of the six little Bunkers had followed their father and mother.  They saw a queer sight.

Crabs were crawling all over the floor.  They had managed to wiggle out of the peach basket in which they had been put as they were caught from the boat.  Cousin Tom had spread wet seaweed over the top of the basket, but this had not been enough to keep the crabs in.

“Look, they’re chasing us!” cried Rose, as a crab came sliding sideways over the oil-cloth, clashing its big claws.

“They are only trying to get into the dark corners to hide,” said Cousin Tom.  “I’ll pick them up.”

“Will they pinch you?” asked Laddie.

“No, not if I pick them up by one of their back flippers,” said his cousin.  “There is a certain way to pick up a crab so he can’t reach you with his claws.”

Just then a crab came toward Cousin Tom.  He put out his foot, and held it tightly on the hard shell of the crab’s back.  Then, reaching behind the crab, and taking hold of one of the broad, flat swimming flippers, he lifted the crab up that way.  The crab wiggled and tried to reach Cousin Tom with the pinching claws, but could not.

“That’s the way to do it,” called out Cousin Tom, as he tossed the crab into the basket.

“I can do it!” said Laddie, who liked to try new things.

“You’d better not,” advised his mother.  “Look how the crab pinched Russ.”

“My toe’s bleeding,” said the little fellow, and so it was.  A big crab can easily pinch hard enough to draw blood.