MIDSUMMER DAYS
Half past twelve found the Barracouta again at her mooring in Sprowl's Cove. Throppy and Filippo were landed, with instructions to haul the lobster-traps the next morning if the fog would allow them to do it safely. Without waiting for dinner, Jim, Budge, and Percy started in the sloop for Rockland to dispose of their catch. They had no ice, so it was necessary to get the two swordfish to market as soon as possible.
"Thicker 'n a dungeon, isn't it?" said Jim as they rounded Brimstone Point and headed northwest into the fog. "Lucky we've got a good compass! Without it we wouldn't stand the ghost of a show of getting to Rockland. We'd pile up on some ledge before we'd gone half-way."
Shaping their course carefully by the chart, and keeping on the alert to avoid passing vessels and steamers, they drove the Barracouta at top speed. Ten miles from Tarpaulin the increased height of the ocean swells told that they were crossing the shoal rocky ground of Snippershan. Five miles farther on they left behind the clanging bell on Bay Ledge and soon passed the red whistler south of Hurricane. A straight course from this brought them at five o'clock to the bell east of Monroe's Island, and before six they were alongside the steamboat wharf at Rockland.
"Look out for her, boys!" directed Jim. "I want to get up-town before the markets close."
He landed, and started on the run for Main Street. In twenty-five minutes he was back.
"Sold 'em!" he announced. "Sixty dollars!"
A little later an express-wagon with two men drove down on the wharf. The swordfish were hoisted from the Barracouta, the agreed price paid, and the team hurried away.
"Not a bad day's work," said Budge.
"Fair! Now let's go somewhere and get a good supper!"