It was a frightful mouth, armed with huge rows of sawlike teeth, and although they knew the brute was dead the boys could not repress a shudder as they looked at it.
“Talk about a buzz saw!” exclaimed Teddy. “It couldn’t cut you in two more neatly than this fellow could when he was swimming around.”
“If those teeth could talk, I imagine they’d have some stories to tell,” added Ross.
“And they wouldn’t be pretty stories either,” observed Bill.
“I wouldn’t want him to be the undertaker at my funeral,” said Fred, who could not help thinking that that dismal function might have been performed by this shark or some other the day he had gone overboard.
“Look at those wicked eyes,” said Lester. “They’re almost as fiendish now as they were when they looked up at us as he came swimming around 152 the boat. I’ll wager we’ll see them more than once in our dreams.”
“As long as we don’t see them any other way it won’t matter much,” concluded Bill, the practical.
It was a full hour before the boys had cut the teeth from the bony sockets and had secured all the strips of hide they wanted to make up into souvenirs.
“We’ll leave the rest of the carcass here until the tide comes in and carries it away,” remarked Lester, when the work was finished. “It’ll float out to sea and the other fish will make short work of it.”
“That’ll be only justice,” said Teddy. “He’s feasted on them or their brothers by the ton in his time.”