and then fairly sped down to the end of the pier and called a
boatman to take him off. The boatman, who was a native of the place, and
to whom everything connected with angling was an old story, laughed at
the boy's excitement.

"Goin' to catch a tuna with your hands, sir?" he asked, seeing that the
boy was not carrying any fishing-tackle.

"No," the boy answered, "but I just came in on the steamer and, as we
passed the point, saw Father's boat, and he seemed to have something
big on the line, so I want to go out and see the fun."

"I heard Major Dare had a tuna this mornin'," the boatman said, casting
off and starting the little engine, "although there haven't many of 'em
showed up yet this season. Are you his son?"

"Yes," Colin answered, "I'm the oldest."

"I hope you're goin' to take after him, then," the boatman said
approvingly; "he's a fine angler. Looks like the tuna was comin' in," he
continued a moment later, as the boat with the flag flying came speeding
into the harbor. But the fish was darting from side to side in short
rushes, and it was evident that he was tiring.

"Hullo, Father," called the boy, as they came within hearing; "are you
going to land him?"

"Is that you, Colin?" his father answered, without taking his eyes from
his line, however. "Glad to have you back. Yes," he continued, answering
the boy's question, "I think I'll land him all right, but I'm pretty
well tuckered out, I hooked him over three hours ago."

Even recalling what the angler aboard the steamer had told him about the
sportsmanlike rules that obtain at Avalon, it seemed absurd to Colin
for any one to try and catch so heavy a fish as the tuna seemed to be,
with a rod and line that would be thought light for trout.

"How big do the fish run here?" he asked the boatman.

"'Bout a thousand pounds for the biggest game fishes, them's black
sea-bass," the man answered; "leastways there was an eight-hundred
pounder brought in, and lots of us have seen bigger ones."

"But how can they catch fishes that size on a little bit of a spindling
rod and a line so fine you can hardly see it?"

"They don't," was the reply, "not that big. The record black sea-bass,
rod and reel, that has been caught here was four hundred and thirty-six
pounds in the season of 1905. The biggest tuna--they're the hardest
fighters of any fish that swims--was two hundred and fifty-one pounds,
caught in the season of 1900. I reckon Major Dare's fast to one th