dollars, on his shoulders; that's
where they say the devil got him between his thumb and forefinger, but
couldn't hold on."

It was now not far from four o'clock. The sun, rising straight from the
water, lifted his fiery red disk above the eastern horizon. It was a
strange sight to Percy. The sunrises he had seen could almost be
numbered on the fingers of one hand. He yawned. The novelty of trawling
was wearing off; he wished himself back in his hard bunk.

A heavy, chunky fish of an old-gold color, with an almost continuous
line of fins, was the next habitant of the sea to cross the dory
gunwale. Jim held him up to show Percy.

"Look at this cusk! He likes rocky bottom as well as a haddock. He's
used to deep water, and if you start him up quick his stomach will blow
out of his mouth like a bladder. I've seen 'em so plenty that they
floated a trawl on top of water for half a mile."

Seven or eight small haddock and cusk, and then once more the trawl
began to yield hake.

"Back again on muddy bottom," said Jim. "What d'you say to trying your
hand at it?"

Percy agreed, but without enthusiasm. He had seen enough to realize that
pulling a trawl was no sinecure. By means of a fish-fork Jim pitched his
catch aboard the sloop. The first tub of trawl was now full. He
transferred it to the _Barracouta_ and set an empty tub in its place.

"You'll find fishing is no bed of roses," he remarked as he dropped down
into the standing-room.

"I believe you," answered Percy, with conviction.

He started to get aboard the dory.

"Not there!" warned Jim. "Forward of the kid-board!"

The caution came too late. Percy stepped into the slippery pen from
which the fish had just been pitched; unluckily, too, he was not careful
to plant his weight amidships. The dory, overbalanced to starboard,
careened suddenly, and he fell sprawling on the slimy bottom. Jim could
not repress an exclamation of impatience.

"Why didn't you step where I told you?"

"I didn't think she'd tip so easy," retorted Percy, angrily.

In bad humor with himself and things in general, he scrambled up and
took his place back of the empty tub. Jim sheered the _Barracouta_ off.

"Put on your nippers! If you don't your hands will be raw in a little
while."

Percy thrust his fingers through the white woolen doughnuts, grasped the
trawl, and began dragging it in over the roller. He made slow, awkward
work of it. Jim watched him with ill-suppressed impatience,