came the gentle tug. I let out line, but he let go. Still I
could see him plainly when the swell was right. I began to jerk my bait,
to give it a jumping motion, as I had so often done with flying-fish
bait when after swordfish. He sheered off, then turned with a rush,
broadside on, with his sail up. I saw him clearly, his whole length, and
he appeared blue and green and silver. He took the bait and turned away
from me, and when I struck the hook into his jaw I felt that it would
stay. He was not a jumper--only breaking clear twice. I could not make
him leap. He fought hard enough, however, and with that tackle took
thirty minutes to land.

It was eight o'clock. I had two sailfish in the boat and had fought two
besides. And at that time I sighted the first fishing-boat coming out
toward the reef. Before that boat got out near us I had struck and lost
three more sailfish, with eleven leaps in all to my credit. This boatman
had followed Sam and me the day before and he appeared to be bent upon
repeating himself. I thought I would rather enjoy that, because he had
two inexperienced anglers aboard, and they, in the midst of a school of
striking sailfish, would be sure to afford some fun. Three other boats
came out across the reef, ventured a little way in the Gulf Stream, and
then went back to grouper and barracuda. But that one boatman, B., stuck
to us. And right away things began to happen to his anglers. No one so
lucky in strikes as a green hand! I saw them get nine strikes without
hooking a fish. And there appeared to be a turmoil on board that boat. I
saw B. tearing his hair and the fishermen frantically jerking, and then
waving rods and arms. Much as I enjoyed it, Sam enjoyed it more. But I
was not mean enough to begrudge them a fish and believed that sooner or
later they would catch one.

Presently, when B.'s boat was just right for his anglers to see
everything my way, I felt a tug on my line. I leaped up, let the reel
run. Then I threw on my drag and leaned over to strike. But he let go.
Quickly I threw off the drag. The sailfish came back. Another tug! I let
him run. Then threw on the drag and got ready. But, no, he let go. Again
I threw off the drag and again he came back. He was hungry, but he was
cunning, too, and too far back for me to see. I let him run fifty feet,
threw on the drag, and struck hard. No go! I missed him. But again I
threw off the drag, let out more line back to him, and he took the bait
th