The fisherman looked at him.
"Jerry Fitzgerald is the skipper o' this craft," he said, "an' he's got the reputation o' carryin' all canvas in a full gale. See the lights around us?"
"I saw one or two," Colin answered. "Other seiners?"
"O' course, an' do you think Jerry's goin' to
lose a chance o' the school because o' canvas? Wait a bit an' you'll see!"
Not a minute had passed by before another order came.
"Give her the stays'l. Run up the balloon, too!"
Colin gasped, but he lent a hand. As the Shiner felt the added sail she poked her nose in and took the water green. But the narrow build forward threw off the load, and she rose like a duck. The seiner was carrying a fearful press of sail, but she stood up stiffly under it, all the red and green lights of the other seiners falling astern; it was evident that the skipper meant to keep them there. Before long, occasional flashes of light, being the phosphorescence churned up by the tails of a pod of mackerel, could be seen from the deck.
"Into the boat!" cried the skipper.
For just a second Colin hesitated, but he saw Mr. Roote go into the seine-boat and he followed immediately. The seine-master, who had been aloft, came down with a rush. Colin could hear the rustle of the oilskins as he partly touched the stays, but he landed on the deck with a 'thump' as great as though he had leaped down the last ten feet. The seine-boat was dropping astern as