“Right after Ah done stick ’im. Soon’s Ah let ’im hab de knife he done commence thrashin’ ’round somethin’ terrible. ’Fore Ah could get out ob his way he done hit me a swipe wid dat ol’ tail ob his an’ dar yo’ see it.” Sam indicated his shoulder, which was still bleeding, though not as freely as before.
“Well, all I can say is,” exclaimed Fred, “that you ought to have a medal. I swear I don’t see how anyone could have the nerve to fight a shark in the water. Why, I’d be afraid of one lying half dead on the beach.”
“So should I,” said Grant. “How big was that fellow anyway, John?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He must have been nearly eighteen feet though.”
“Come on here,” said Fred skeptically, “you can’t make us believe a thing like that. Eighteen feet; why, that’s three times as long as you are.”
“I know it is. I realized that when I said it.”
“Is he right, Sam?” demanded Fred. “Was the shark as big as that?”
“Ah should say he was jes’ about dat size,” replied Sam seriously.
“All right,” laughed Fred. “I won’t argue with you, but that’s easily the biggest fish story I ever heard.”
“It was the biggest fish I ever saw,” said John grimly. “Whew!” and he shuddered at the recollection.