Budge followed the second-hand of his watch while the coil in the tub grew larger.
"Better than ten a minute," he announced. "That's going some."
"It's slow to what some fishermen can do. It means about an hour to a tub. Catch hold, you fellows, and see how fast you can do it. Might as well make a beginning. You'll have plenty of experience before the summer's ended. I'll take her awhile, Filippo."
The other boys, Percy included, were soon hard at work, each on his own tub. At first they made a slow, awkward business of it. Impatient exclamations rose as the sharp hooks were stuck into clumsy fingers. Finally Percy threw down his trawl in a fit of anger.
"I've had enough of this! I didn't come out here to butcher myself."
"You can steer," said Jim, quietly. "I'll take your place."
Percy stepped to the helm, and Jim began baiting again. The others stuck to their unfamiliar task, despite its discouragements, and were soon making fair headway. Percy eyed them sulkily. His pricked fingers smarted. The boat rolled and pitched on the old swell, making him a trifle seasick. A wave of disgust swept over him. This was no place for the son of a millionaire. He wished himself back on the land.
By the time they reached Tarpaulin, at about half past four, all the six trawls were baited.
"We won't set them till day after to-morrow," determined Jim. "Guess we can find enough work to keep us busy ashore till then."
There was no doubt about that. Until supper-time various odd jobs kept everybody occupied. Most important of all, the mosquito netting was cut and tacked over the three windows.