"Lead caught in the rocks," croaked Hezz contemptuously.
"Oh, is it! Look here! It's coming up."
"Weed, then," squeaked Hezz.
"'Tisn't," cried Lance; "I know by the heavy, steady pull. It's a big conger."
"No congers there."
"How do you know?"
"And if there were they wouldn't bite at this time of day."
"You mind your own business," cried Lance excitedly. "It's a thumping big one, and he isn't awake yet to his being hooked. He's coming, and he'll begin to make a rush directly to get in his hole. You begin rowing, and get him right out away from the rocks."
Hezz did as he was told, but only made two or three strokes and then stopped, for his companion had to give line.