CHAPTER XXV.
LOST IN THE FOG.
After that, the fish bit fast and furiously. It seemed that the boys had nothing to do but to bait their hooks, throw them over and pull in a fish. There were all varieties, many of them strange to the two lads. Suddenly Tom’s hook was seized by something that gave a tug that almost pulled the boy out of the boat into the water.
“Wow!” yelled Tom. “I’ve got a whale!”
He twisted his line about a thwart, for whatever had caught the other end of the line almost pulled his arms out when he attempted to hold it unaided.
“You mean the whale’s got you,” shouted Jack, laughing.
But the next instant his laughter turned to a shout of dismay.
“Your whale’s running away with us.”
This was true. The creature that had hold of Tom’s line was darting off at a rapid rate and pulling the boat behind him.
They skimmed over the water at great speed, Tom enjoying the fun hugely.
“This beats motor boating,” he declared, “no engine to bother with and just as fast. Guess I’ll catch this critter when he gets tired out and introduce him at home as a new form of motive power.”