Sam, who had been sitting quietly in the stern, with his hands resting lightly on the lines, suddenly jumped up and began pulling on one.
“Did you hook him?” cried Bob.
“He got away,” the sailor said in a disgusted tone. “He was only nibbling at the bait. But we’re amongst ’em now. Be on the watch.”
Jerry and Bob went back to join Sam, while Ned stayed to run the engine and steer. But the first bite was not at once followed by any others. The boat went along for a mile or more before Sam gave any evidence of feeling the hooks touched. Then he uttered a yell:
“I’ve got one now!”
He began to haul in on the line, calling to the two boys to help him. The lads yanked with all their strength, as did the sailor, but they had met their match. Something at the other end of the line was pulling against them, and they could not budge it.
“Speed up the boat a bit!” called Sam. “We’ll tire him out and try again!”
Ned put the motor to second speed, and the craft churned through the water. Sam waited a few minutes and then tried the line again, the boys helping him.
“He’s a little easier now,” the sailor remarked. “That pulling on his jaw weakened him.”