“I’ve a word to say to you, Tom Saunders,” remarked Clem quietly, watching him for signs of further trouble. “You think you’re something of a boss scrapper, and a deuce of a sporty chap. You’re not. You’re a cheap, low-down drunken loafer!
“You keep away from your old father and mother as much as you can, and you loaf around the water front, gambling and fighting and drinking. Well, you’re going to get your fill o’ fighting this trip, believe me! You’re going to realize that you got a blamed sight better home than any pool room will furnish——”
Tom, partly recovered from that stunning blow, leaped in again.
Clem raised the gaff, then dropped it. He saw that Tom was a glutton for punishment, and determined to administer it. Yet he admired deeply the dogged courage of the other.
Cool, confident, smiling, for a good ten minutes he smashed Tom Saunders about the deck. At the end of that time Tom collapsed, both eyes pulling, and his face hammered black and blue. Clem caught up a canvas bucket, trailed it over the side, and sluiced Tom with cold salt water until Tom sat up, gasping and half drowned.
“If you’ve had enough, get busy and clean them decks!” snapped Clem.
Tom had not had enough, as his curses showed, but he set to work cleaning the decks. During breakfast, he eyed Clem in sullen silence, and after breakfast Clem set him to work cleaning out the fish boxes and untangling lines and leaders.
Shortly afterward, Clem caught sight of a flock of gulls far to the south, and headed the Sadie for them. Where the gulls were there were yellowtail, and skipjack also. Calling Tom, he put him to work at the outriggers.
These were long ten-foot poles, set into sockets just abaft the pilot house, and projecting over the rails. From each pole were set out three hundred-yard lines, the outermost of which bore automatic strikers, the others bearing hooks and minnows.
Five minutes later they got the first strike, and then the fun waxed fast and furious. Clem let out a yell for Ed Davis, and they began to haul in fifteen and twenty-pound yellowtail as fast as the trolling lines could be drawn taut. As Clem and Tom hauled in the fighting, darting, leaping fish, Ed gaffed them.