Motor Boat Boys Among the Florida Keys; Or, The Struggle for the Leadership. Arundel Louis
down, Jack managed to get a peculiar sort of hitch around the taut line; and a quick jerk seemed to secure his own rope, so that it would not slip. His next action was to take a keen knife, and lay its edge upon the line, close to the spot where it was fastened to the wobbling dinky.
Of course it instantly parted.
“Oh! that’s too bad! Now I’ve lost my tackle!” cried Nick; although he looked vastly relieved at finding that he was no longer fast to the queer sea horse.
Jack paid no further attention to the rescued chum. The fight was now to be all between himself and the shark.
Quickly the line paid out, until there came a heavy jerk, and then once more it became taut.
“Bully! it’s holding fine, Jack!” shouted Herb, who had watched to see the result; for he doubted whether the connection, brought about under such difficulties, would be maintained.
“Now, gradually bring the boat to a full stop,” said Jack, as he again reached back into the cabin, and drew out a rifle. “As soon as you’ve got him halted, begin to back up. That will drag him to the top, you understand; and I’ll have a chance to pot the rascal.”
“That’s right,” declared Herb, who could grasp a thing readily enough, even if slow to originate clever schemes himself.
Just as Jack had said, when the pull was being exerted in the other direction, the struggling monster was presently seen splashing at a tremendous rate, though unable to resist the drawing powers of the ten-horsepower engine.
Jack, crouching there, with one elbow resting on his knee, took as good an aim as the conditions allowed. Then came the sharp report of the gun.
“Whoop! you hit him all right, that time, Jack!” shouted Herb; as there ensued a tremendous floundering at the end of the rope. “But he ain’t knocked out yet. Give him another dose of the same sort!”
Across the water came the cries of the others who were watching this exciting scene. And loudest of all could be heard the voice of Nick, now once more in possession of his nerve.
“Give it to him, Jack! Pound the measly old pirate good and hard! He won’t try that game again in a hurry, I tell you! Hey! Jimmy, you ain’t in it this time, with that little minnow of yours. Hurrah! that’s the time you poked him in the slats, Jack! Trust you for knowing how! I guess he’s a sure goner after that meal of cold lead.”
Jack had fired a second time; and, just as the wildly excited Nick said, he seemed to have met with better success than on the former occasion. The trapped sea monster threshed the water still, but not in the same violent manner as before; and his fury seemed to be rapidly diminishing as the result of his wounds began to be felt.
“Now, stop her, Herb, and start ahead slowly!” Jack called out, hovering over the spot where the line was fast to the cleat.
The boy at the wheel did as he was directed; and as the line became slack Jack took it in, ready to hastily secure the same about another cleat in case the dying shark developed a disposition to make a last mad dash.
But evidently the big fish was “all in,” and when they reached a point nearly over where he lay, there were seen only a few spasmodic movements to his body.
“Let’s drag him near the other boats, so we can pull the old fellow up on that little beach,” Jack suggested.
Ten minutes later, and the six boys were all ashore, laying hold of the rope in order to drag the captured fish out.
“Say, he’s some whopper, let me tell you!” exclaimed George, as, having drawn the shark high and dry, they all hastened to examine the capture.
Nick was dancing with joy, and his eyes fairly beamed as he stood beside the great bulk, putting one foot up on it after the manner in which he had seen noted hunters do, in pictures that told of their exploits when hunting big game.
“Now, how about it, Jimmy?” he demanded, as Jack was cutting the stout hook from the jaw of the monster. “Think this is some punkins, don’t you, now. Three hundred pounds, if it weighs an ounce. Have to hustle some, let me tell you, my boy, if you ever expect to go a notch higher than this.”
“Arrah, come off, would you!” indignantly cried Jimmy. “Sure, ye wouldn’t be claiming that ye took this same ould sea wolf, and inter it in the competition. I do be laving it to Jack here, if that’s fair?”
“But I hooked it, you all saw that?” expostulated Nick.
“I don’t know,” remarked Herb, looking very serious; “I was under the impression that the shark had got you, up to the time Jack came along with his little gun, and tapped him on the head. How about it, Commodore? Can Nick enter any claim to having caught this prize?”
“Wait,” said Jack, smiling; “let me read out the exact words of the wager. I’ve got a copy right here in my note book. Listen now, both of you. It reads like this: ‘Each contestant shall have the liberty of fishing as often as he pleases, and the fish may be taken in any sort of manner; the one stipulation being that the capture shall be undertaken by the contestant, alone and unaided; and that he must have possession of the fish long enough to show the same, and have its weight either estimated or proven.’”
“That settles your goose, me bhoy!” croaked Jimmy, gleefully; “and I’m top notch in the game up to the prisent moment. Do we get busy again, Nick, I say; or are ye satisfied to lit me claim first blood?”
“Well, it seems mighty small, that after grabbing that nice fellow, I’ve got to let the honors go for the day,” remarked the fat boy. “And I guess I’ve had quite enough excitement for once. I’m all soaked in the bargain; and it feels kind of cool, you see. So I won’t fish any more right now. But next time, just you look out for yourself, Jimmy. I’m after you like hot cakes. Say, ain’t we going to have that fish for supper, boys?”
Nick was a voracious eater. He liked nothing in the world so much as to enjoy a glorious meal; and long after his chums were through, he often sat there, finishing the dishes. On the other hand, lean, lanky Josh, while possessed of a knack for cooking all sorts of good things, had a poor appetite, and often merely nibbled at his food, to the wonderment and disgust of the fat boy.
“If you get to work and clean it,” said Jack, “I think there ought to be plenty to go around. But you’ll find that one-third of a channel bass is the head. As we had one before, we know it’s worth eating, so pitch in, Nick. Since you lost your knife overboard, take mine here, and get busy.”
It pleased Jimmy to strut around near where his rival was occupied with his menial task, and make occasional remarks about “his prize,” calculated to rub salt in Nick’s wounds. But after all, the fat boy was good-natured, and took things in a matter-of-fact way. Besides, he was grimly resolved that sooner or later, by hook or by crook, even if it were a fish-hook, he would overcome this strong lead of his rival in the race for high honors.
As more or less fuel had been found ashore, and Josh expressed his desire to manage the supper, as head chef, it was found advisable to change their plans. And so, assisted by many willing workers, the lanky wonder started operations.
He was soon bustling around, looking very consequential. Nick had made him a chef’s cap out of a piece of white muslin, which he was requested to wear on all such occasions as this, when in charge of affairs about the cooking fire.
Nick himself was busy trying to mend some little contraption, purchased on the street in Jacksonville, and which he had broken before he could have any fun with the same as originally intended.
Jack, stepping off from the Tramp, where he had gone to get some of the tinware needed for coffee and substantial food, was electrified to hear Josh give a whoop; and at the same instant his ears were assailed by a dreadful rattling noise that sounded for all the world like the angry buzz of a diamond-back rattlesnake.
“Thunder and Mars! Great Jerusalem! I’m struck in the leg!” bellowed the lengthy Josh, as he came tumbling back from the edge of the bushes, grabbing at his shin in a frantic manner.
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