“Like a jelly-fish?” asked Paul.
“Mercy no! It was shaped like a real fish only it was lumpy. Captain brought it to me in a bucket of water but I let it go again ’cause he was so little and funny.”
“Say, isn’t it lucky for our lists that we were all down in New London last summer and saw the fish there before they were cut up for the market,” said Dudley.
“You just bet! That gave us a good start—that sword-fish and halibut they showed us there,” affirmed Paul.
“Oh, look, boys! The fog is lifting!” cried Elizabeth.
“Perhaps it will be clear to-morrow,” added Fred.
So, cheered by this hope they all retired to their tents which only the use of oil-stoves had rendered dry in the dripping moisture of the fog.
The morning was lovely and the brisk nor’wester blew away all memory of the fog. In spite of the hard pull in the breeze, the boys insisted upon visiting their lobster pots.
“Oh joy! a lobster to-day for every one of us excepting Paul. But there are two in Fred’s trap,” counted Billy.
“Yes, and one of them’s big enough to enter for the prise contest. I’m going to weigh and measure it,” said Fred, steering the boat into Treasure Cove.