There was a rush to the taffrail—great excitement.
“Keep clear of me,” said Staines quietly but firmly. “It can only be done at the moment before he cuts the wire.”
The old shark swam slowly round the bait.
He saw it was something new.
He swam round and round it.
“He won't take it,” said one.
“He suspects something.”
“Oh, yes, he will take the meat somehow, and leave the pepper. Sly old fox!”
“He has eaten many a poor Jack, that one.”
The shark turned slowly on his back, and, instead of grabbing at the bait, seemed to draw it by gentle suction into that capacious throat, ready to blow it out in a moment if it was not all right.