“A shark! A bad one!” he exclaimed again. “He got our fish—”
“No, the fish is still there. Pull him in quick!”
The fish came flapping into the boat.
“All here but the tail,” was his comment. “Baked tuna is not half bad. We’ll have a feast.”
For a time after that they sat watching the waters.
The shark did not return. The night really settled down. The city’s lights painted a many-colored picture against the wall of darkness beyond, and all was still.
Out of that stillness came the chug-chug of a motorboat.
“They’re coming for us,” she said huskily. She did not know whether to be glad or sorry.
“It’s nice to have been with you,” he said when, an hour later, he let her out of a taxi at her hotel door. “Thanks for saving my life and all that.”
“It’s been fun,” she said. “It really has. Think I’ll resign from the WAVES and join the life guards.”