swordfish!... Why, that--that fish hasn't waked up yet!"

And I was bound to confess there seemed to me to be a good deal of sense
in what he said.

"Dan, I'll take the rod--rest you a bit--so you can finish him," I
offered.

The half-hour Dan recorded as my further work on this fish will always
be a dark and poignant blank in my fishing experience. When it was over
twilight had come and the fish was rolling and circling perhaps fifty
yards from the boat.

Here Dan took the rod again, and with the harness on and fresh gloves
went at the fish in grim determination.

Suddenly the moon sailed out from behind a fog-bank and the sea was
transformed. It was as beautiful as it was lucky for us.

By Herculean effort Dan brought the swordfish close. If any angler
doubts the strength of a twenty-four thread line his experience is still
young. That line was a rope, yet it sang like a banjo string.

Leaning over the side, with two pairs of gloves on, I caught the double
line, and as I pulled and Dan reeled the fish came up nearer. But I
could not see him. Then I reached the leader and held on as for dear
life.

"I've got the leader!" I yelled. "Hurry, Dan!"

Dan dropped the rod and reached for his gaff. But he had neglected to
unhook the rod from the harness, and as the fish lunged and tore the
leader away from me there came near to being disaster. However, Dan got
straightened out and anchored in the chair and began to haul away again.
It appeared we had the fish almost done, but he was so big that a mere
movement of his tail irresistibly drew out the line.

Then the tip of the rod broke off short just even with the splints and
it slid down the line out of sight. Dan lowered the rod so most of the
strain would come on the reel, and now he held like grim death.

"Dan, if we don't make any more mistakes we'll get that fish!" I
declared.

The sea was almost calm now, and moon-blanched so that we could plainly
see the line. Despite Dan's efforts, the swordfish slowly ran off a
hundred feet more of line. Dan groaned. But I yelled with sheer
exultation. For, standing up on the gunwale, I saw the swordfish. He had
come up. He was phosphorescent--a long gleam of silver--and he rolled in
the unmistakable manner of a fish nearly beaten.

Suddenly he headed for the boat. It was a strange motion. I was
surprised--then frightened. Dan reeled in rapidly. The streak of white
gleamed closer and closer. It was like white fire--a l