“Only a shark!” echoed Alec in surprise. “Why, I thought sharks were enormous!”
“There’s all kinds o’ sharks, big an’ little.”
“I’ve heard of land sharks,” murmured Norton, “and seen ’em, too; but I’ve never met with a sea shark. At least, I’ve never been on speaking terms with one.”
“This one pulls like a whale!” Alec declared, playing the long line, one hand on the reel.
Seeing that his own pole was all right, Billy remained close beside Alec, ready to lend a hand if Alec needed assistance. For a while none was needed, but by and by it began to appear that the fish was tiring the fisherman, instead of just the reverse. Alec’s wrists and forearms positively ached with the strain of managing the prize, and he allowed Billy to help him. All stood around, tense with interest, watching the contest. Even Dave, hearing their gleeful shouts and exclamations, forgot his misery and came forth from the cuddy to add his grunts and mumbled directions. However, he was unable to remain long on deck. With a portentous groan, he fled again to contend with his woes.
As the sloop plunged onward, they played the fish nearly an hour, taking turns so that all might share in the sport. Twice, by a skilful handling of the reel, Hugh barely kept the line from snapping. At last they drew the game in far enough to see a gleam of silver flash through the dark green water. A big tarpon leaped out of the bosom of a wave, glittered one moment in the sunlight, and then darted back into its native element.
“Gee! Did you see him?”
“Did I! Well, you bet I did!”
“Must be a fifty pounder!”
“All of that. No wonder he pulls so hard!”