.

Fifty fathoms is a long distance to drag two hundred pounds. Percy's
arms began to ache before he had coiled in half the warp. Then he was
treated to a surprise.

Several feet of line jerked through his hands. The fish had come to life
again!

Percy closed his grip on the strands, but soon let them slip to avoid
being pulled overboard. He started to make the line fast, but remembered
Spurling's caution against the danger of tearing the dart out of his
prey. So he tossed the barrel over again and began rowing after it.

After traveling a few rods, it stopped. Once more he took it aboard and
began coiling in the warp. This time the fish must surely be spent. But
no! Thirty fathoms had crossed the gunwale when the rope was whisked
from his hands with even more violence than before.

Taken completely by surprise, Percy was wrenched forward. He hung for a
moment over the side, twisted himself back in a strong effort to regain
his balance, and incautiously planted his foot inside the unlaying coil.
A turn whipped round his ankle, and he was snatched overboard, feet
first.

Before he could make a motion to free himself he was plowing rapidly
along under water. His first panic passed. Unless he wished to drown, he
must somehow clear his foot of that vise-like grip. And whatever he did
must be done at once.

He tried to reach his ankle, but the rate at which he was traveling
straightened out his body, and he could not bend it against the water
rushing by him. The warp leading back to the dory trailed across his
face. He felt his way down it, hand over hand, to his ankle.

There was a terrible pressure on his chest, a roaring in his ears; he
was strangling. He could not hold his breath ten seconds longer.

Bent almost double, he grasped the taut line beyond his foot, first
with one hand, then with both, and flung his whole weight suddenly on it
in a desperate pull.

The strain round his ankle eased, the rope loosened. Kicking vigorously,
he freed himself from the loop. Then he let go of the warp and quickly
rose to the surface.

Percy was a good swimmer. He cleared the water from his mouth and nose,
paddled easily while he drew two or three long breaths, then raised
himself and looked around.

Twenty yards away the dory bobbed aimlessly, the rope still running at a
rapid rate over its gunwale. As Percy rose on a wave he caught a glimpse
of the _Barracouta_ more than a mile off; engrossed in the chase of the
sec