"I'll pay out some more line," said the unperturbed Tubby. "I guess whatever we're onto begins to believe that he has swallowed something pretty indigestible."
Faster and faster the Flying Fish began to cut through the sea. The water sprayed out from both sides of her cutwater in a steady stream.
"She's doing as well as she did the day of the race," said Merritt, with a laugh, gazing at Hiram's rather pale face. The wireless youth was casting longing glances at the shore.
"Well, I wish Mr. Whale, or whatever he is, would come up and let us have a look at him!" exclaimed Tubby suddenly. "This is getting pretty monotonous."
As he spoke the boy paid nut a little more line. He had only just time to belay it round the cleat to avoid its being jerked out of his hand, so fast was the creature they had hooked now traveling.
"Say, Tubby," spoke Merritt at length, "I'm beginning to think myself that it might not be a bad idea to put back. Those clouds over there on the horizon look as if they meant trouble."
"Oh, let's keep it on a little while longer pleaded Tubby; cutting through the water like this, without any expenditure of gasoline or power, is the real luxurious way of ocean traveling. It beats the Mauretania. Just think if liners could hitch a whole team of things like whatever has got hold of us to their bows! Why, the Atlantic would be crossed in four days."
For some time longer the boat shot along over the waves, towed by its invisible force. The boys, with the exception of Tubby, began to get anxious. The shores of the mainland were dim in the distance behind them, and Topsail Island itself only showed as a dark blue dot.
Suddenly the motion ceased.
"He's free of the line!" shouted Hiram, inwardly much relieved to think they had got rid of what to him was an alarming situation.