Luckily the water was not deep—­hardly over Mun Bun’s head—­and his father soon lifted the little fellow up out of danger.

“There!” cried Daddy Bunker, laughing to show Mun Bun that there was no more danger.  “Now the crab can’t get you!”

Mun Bun looked around to make sure, and then, seeing that he was sitting on the pier, where his father had placed him, he looked around again.

“Did you—­did you get the crab?” he asked, his voice was a little choky.

“No, indeed I didn’t!” laughed Mr. Bunker.  “I was only trying to get you.  I told you to be careful and not lean too far over.”

“Well, I—­I wanted to see my crab!”

“And the crab came near getting you.  Well, it can’t be helped now.  You are soaking wet.  I’ll take you up to the bungalow and your mother can put dry clothes on you.  Come along.”

“But I want to get my crab, Daddy!”

“Oh, he’s gone, Mun Bun.  No crab would stay near the pier after all the splashing I made when I jumped in to get you out.”

“Maybe he’s on my string yet,” insisted the little fellow.  “I tied my string to the pier.  Please, Daddy, pull it up and see if it has a crab on it.”

“Well, I will,” said Mun Bun’s father, as he jumped up on the pier from the water, after having lifted out his little boy.  “I’ll pull up the string, but I’m sure the crab has swum back into the ocean.”

Both Mun Bun and his father were soaking wet, but as it was a hot day in October they did not mind.  Mr. Bunker slowly pulled on the string, the end of which, as Mun Bun had said, was tied to a post on the pier.  Slowly Mr. Bunker pulled in, not to scare away the crab, if there was one, and a moment later he cried: 

“Oh, there is a big one, Mun Bun!  It didn’t go away with all the splashing!  Run and get me the net and I’ll catch it for you!”

Mun Bun ran up on shore and came back with the long-handled net Mr. Bunker had dropped.  Then, holding the string, with the chunk of meat on it, in one hand, the meat being just under water, Mun Bun’s father carefully dipped the net into the water and thrust it under the bait and the crab.

A moment later he quickly lifted the net, and in it was a great, big crab—­one of the largest Mr. Bunker had ever seen, and there were some big ones in Clam River.

“Oh, you got him, didn’t you!” cried Mun Bun, capering about.  “You caught my terrible crab, didn’t you, Daddy?”

“Well, I rather guess we did, Mun Bun!” exclaimed Mr. Bunker.  “He is a big one, too.”

Mr. Bunker turned the net over a peach basket, and the crab, slashing and snapping his claws, dropped into it.  Then Mun Bun looked down at him.

“I got you, I did!” said the little boy.  “My daddy and I got you, we did.”

“But it took a lot of work, Mun Bun!” laughed Mr. Bunker.  “If I had to jump in and pull you out every time you wanted to catch a crab I wouldn’t like it.  But he surely is a big one.”