“Looks like it. Where’s the dorado?”
“I—that is—I grew so drowsy, I—yes, I fastened the end of the line for fear it should go overboard, and—here, look out!” he cried sharply, “I have him!”
“Not you,” said Rob; “the hook caught it.”
For the line had been drawn tight while Joe slept, and as he took hold of it he found that it was fast in something heavy, which now sent a quiver along the line, as if it were shaking its head angrily at being disturbed.
“Why, it’s a big one,” said Rob excitedly.
“It’s a monster,” panted Joe. “Oh, I wish I had not been asleep.”
“Caught anything?” came from behind them, and Brazier and Shaddy drew near.
“Yes; Joe has hooked a very big one,” cried Rob eagerly. “Get your hook ready, Shaddy.”
“All right, sir,” said the guide grimly, “but you won’t want it just yet. You’ll have to play that chap before you get him up to the boat.”
So it seemed, for the captive lay sulky for a few moments, resenting the strain on the line, till Joe gave it a jerk, when there was a rush away to the left, the line suddenly slackened, and Rob exclaimed in a tone of disappointment,—