At first he was seated on a tall rock, studying the sea with a great brass telescope. Presently, however, she saw that he had left the rock and was making his way down the fern grown rocks near her. As he came, she studied him out of one corner of her eye. She lost two perfectly good cunners doing this, but it was worth the price. This man was peculiar, a “new type,” one of Pearl’s learned friends would have called him. He was short almost to deformity. He was bow-legged and very broad shouldered. He wore dark glasses which completely hid his eyes. Pearl thought nothing of this last. Many persons living by the ocean wear such glasses to protect their eyes from the dazzling reflection that comes from the mirror-like surface of the sea.
“Hello, little girl,” he said quietly as he settled himself on a rock overhanging the sea. “How’s the fishing?”
Pearl resented being called little, though indeed she was small for sixteen. She was a little frightened too. Witches Cove is a lonely spot, and as we have said before, quite spooky with all its black and green reflections and its constant murmuring that seems to come from nowhere.
But she had come to fish. Between the man and her boat were twenty feet of deep water. Besides, the man intrigued her. So she stayed.
“The fishing is fine,” she said.
“Often think I’ll try it.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Too busy.”
For a moment there was silence. Pearl had caught sight of a great cunner down there among the waving kelp. She was tempting him with a delicious bit of soft clam.
Up went her line, down again, away to one side.