And, really, the line that was wound around his hand was pulled so tight, and stretched so hard, where it went out of the hole and down into the ocean, that Freddie could not lower his fist.
“Oh, Freddie!” cried his mother. “If you have caught a fish it may cut your fingers by jerking on that line.”
“Well, I—I caught something!” Freddie said. “Please somebody get it off my line. And hurry, please!”
By this time Nan and Bert had run down into the storeroom. They saw what was going on.
“Are you sure you haven’t caught another hat?” asked Bert, as he remembered what had once happened to his little brother.
“It doesn’t pull like a hat,” Freddie answered. “It’s a real fish.”
“I believe he has caught something,” said Mr. Chase, the engineer, as he ran in from the motor room. “Yes, it’s either a fish or a turtle,” he added as he caught hold of the line and took some of the pull off Freddie’s hand. “Unwind that cord from your fingers,” he told the little boy. “I’ll take care of your fish—if you really have one.”
“Could it be a turtle?” asked Nan.
“Yes, there are lots of ’em in these waters,” the engineer said. “But I never knew one of ’em to bite on just a piece of string before, without even a hook or a bit of bait on it.”
“Oh, I got something on my line for bait,” Freddie answered.