“Oh, that isn’t big!” said Dick in disappointed tones.
“Not big! What, a fish the size of a tall man, and ten times as strong in the water! Not big! We think it very big down here.”
“Well, go on,” said Dick.
“Oh, there’s no more to tell; only that Josh took up the gaff and got hold of the shark, which gave one flash with his tail and went down again, taking with it Josh’s gaff-hook and the conger-line, and that was all.”
“Oh!” said Dick in a disappointed tone. “They ought to have caught it.”
“Yes,” said Will dryly; “they ought to have caught it, but they did not. There’s Josh already in the boat. I wonder whether he thought of a line to whiff.”
“To whiff? what’s that—to make cigars?”
“No, no!” said Will as they went along the pier. “I’ll show you when we get on board.—Think of a line to whiff, Josh?”
“Ay, lad; I thought young master there might like to try as we went out.”
“This way,” said Will, pausing in front of the lugger, which was now very little below the edge of the pier, as the tide was flowing fast. “Shall I help you?”