Some of the boys gathered dead leaf stalks from under a nearby palmetto, and in next to no time they had a fine, ruddy blaze crackling close by the spot where Nick was standing, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and an air of grim determination about his whole person.
The first thing he did was to make sure the rope went twice around the snubbing post, so that he might always have a hitch. Then he fastened the end of the rope belonging to the falls to the strained fish line, a dozen feet beyond the snubbing post.
His operations were watched with considerable interest by his mates, who realized that quite a transformation was rapidly taking place in the character of the once placid and indolent fat boy.
“Here goes, then!” exclaimed Nick, as he threw his full weight on the rope that went through the several blocks.
They could hear him grunting at a great rate, which indicated what an effort it was to get the shark started shoreward against his will.
“Bully! he’s beginning to make it!” whooped George, greatly excited.
“Hurrah for Nick!” shouted Josh.
“Walk away with it, me bhoy!” cried Jimmy, as though quite forgetting that success for Nick meant defeat for him.
The stout fisherman was indeed doing just what Jimmy advised, and walking away with things. When he had gone as far as he could, he managed to whip the rope around some object. Then, returning to the now slack fishing line, above the spot where he had fastened the falls, he drew it taut around the snubbing post.
“He gained at least ten feet that time,” declared Jack.