“About five hundred,” replied Fred. “Each one is on a short line called a ‘gangin’ which is about a foot and a half long. These gangins hang down every five or so feet along the whole length of the trawl. They have the hooks at the ends and these we have to bait.”
“Gee! How long is the trawl if there are five hundred hooks?” wondered Dudley.
“About half a mile long,” returned Fred.
Captain Ed was tinkering with the traps, putting in new heads and mending broken slats. By the time the boys and girls returned from their bait fishing, with a lot of sculpins and flounders, the four traps were ready. In a short time thereafter the traps were baited and loaded on the largest rowboat.
“I want mine located off Treasure Cove,” announced Billy.
“The Captain says he has picked out some dandy places for Dud’s and mine,” said Paul, not to be outdone.
“Huh! for Dud and you or for your traps?” joked Billy.
“I guess the boys would make good lobster-bait, Bill, and if we run short of sculpins we will use them—the lobsters will never know the difference,” laughed Fred.
This pleasantry caused a rough and tumble scrap on the float-stage but the Captain interrupted them by calling out the welcome order, “All aboard!”
What hopes filled the breasts of Paul and Dudley as the boat neared the spot chosen for the setting of the traps! Mr. Remington had declared the crustaceans to be scarce, still the boys believed that Fate would favour their particular traps and attract the lobsters into them.