He was swinging the boat around while he spoke, but the moment he had done so he reached out and grasped the line which had been so suddenly jerked away from Sam. It was running loosely now.
"Haul it in, boys," he shouted. "We'll see what's at the other end of it."
"Biggest kind of fish!" said Sam. "It hurt my hands."
"Fish?" said the Captain. "Don't you know a fish-bite from a snag? You will when you've catched more of 'em."
Nevertheless the boat could not go directly back upon its former trail, and the line the boys were pulling in grew taut again. As soon as it straightened, the Captain once more touched it, and his fingers told him something, for he remarked:
"It's kind o' loose, too. There are lots of stuff floatin' 'round this bay. It might be wreckage."
Sam was hardly enough of a seaman to get a clear idea from that, and he stood up to watch. He was a pretty good-looking young fellow, with bright dark eyes, and with, just now, a very enthusiastic, highly colored face.
"I knew we'd have some kind of luck if we sailed with Captain Kroom," said Pete.
"Here we are!" shouted the Captain, and down dropped the sail as he added: "Take the oars, Pete! Sam's catched a cod-lamper-eel."
Pete sprang to the oars with the activity of a monkey, and they were instantly in the rowlocks.