Having attached the end of the trawl-line to the anchored buoy Mr. Remington and the boys rowed the boat slowly along with the tide, while the Captain, reaching down with practised hands into the coil in the tub threw over the baited line with the aid of a stick.
As the tide was on the flood the Sunset Islanders had started at what would eventually be the southern end of the trawl and they worked up the bay. The northern buoy was anchored as they finished in the sunset glow.
Rowing homeward, somewhat wet but happy and ready as usual to replenish the inner man, they reached the float where Mrs. Remington stood watching for them.
“Oo-oh! What a mess the boys are in! And it will be worse too when you ‘under-run’ the trawl. Worse still when you clean the fish. Now, boys there won’t be a stitch of clothing fit to wear about here, let alone to travel home in, unless you put away these suits and wear some old fishing togs. I only wish I had remembered to make you change this morning. Come, and I will fit you out as you should be.”
CHAPTER TWO
WHAT THE TRAWL BROUGHT FORTH
SUPERBLY equipped in various misfits of cast-off fishing clothes abandoned by former visitors to the island, and some of Fred’s outgrown trousers, the four boys, shod in rubber boots, could hardly wait for Mose to finish serving the breakfast the morning after the setting of the trawl.
Captain Ed and Mr. Remington were found at the float-stage employed in seeing that the boat was all ready for the trip. The boys soon joined them and all piled into the big rowboat and pulled away from shore.
The tide was running down so they began at the north end of the trawl and soon found the floating buoy. Fred began hauling in the line while the three younger boys craned their necks far over the side of the boat to see the first hook appear.
“Gee! There’s somethin’ on it!” screamed Dudley, excitedly.