"We'll keep a sharp lookout, and if it starts to grow anyways thick we'll strike back for old Tarpaulin."
A pull of about twenty minutes brought them to the ledges, around which the traps were set in a circle. They began hauling at the point in the circumference nearest to the island, following the buoys west and north. The catch exceeded their hopes.
"We'll need another tub, if this keeps up," chuckled Percy.
Filippo laughed jubilantly. The fog was forgotten. Their entire attention was centered on the contents of each trap as it was pulled.
Round on the edge of the circle farthest from the island a pot refused to leave bottom. Percy tugged till he was red in the face, but he could not start it.
"Catch hold with me, Filippo!" he puffed.
The Italian joined his strength to Percy's, but to no avail. The slacker still clung to the bottom. The boys straightened up, panting.
"We'll have to leave it," acknowledged Percy, disappointedly. "Probably there's half a dozen two-pound lobsters in it."
He looked about and gave a startled cry.
"Where's the island?"