ed this swordfish showed that somebody had got his
dander up and was out to do things. This pleased me immensely. It scared
me a little, too, for R. C. showed no disposition to give line or be
gentle to the swordfish. In fact, it was real fight now. And this
particular fish appeared to have no show on earth--or rather in the
water--and after fourteen leaps he was hauled up to the boat in such
short order that if we had gaffed him, as we used to gaff Marlin, we
would have had a desperate fight to hold him. But how easy to cut him
free! He darted down like a blue streak. I had no fair sight of him to
judge weight, but Captain Dan said he was good and heavy.

"Come on! Don't be so slow!" yelled R. C., with a roving eye over the
deep.

Captain Dan was in his element. He saw victory perched upon the mast of
the _Leta D._ He moved with a celerity that amazed me, when I remembered
how exasperatingly slow he could be, fooling with kites. This was
Captain Dan's game.

"The ocean's alive with swordfish!" he boomed. Only twice before had I
heard him say that, and he was right each time. I gazed abroad over the
beautiful sea, and, though I could not see any swordfish, somehow I
believed him. It was difficult now, in this exciting zest of a record
feat, to think of the nobler attributes of fishing. Strong, earnest,
thrilling business it was indeed for Captain Dan.

We all expected to see a swordfish again. That was exactly what
happened. We had not gone a dozen boat-lengths when up out of the blue
depths lunged a lazy swordfish and attached himself to R. C.'s hook. He
sort of half lolled out in lazy splashes four or five times. He looked
huge. All of a sudden he started off, making the reel hum. That run
developed swiftly. Dan backed the boat full speed. In vain! It was too
late to turn. That swordfish run became the swiftest and hardest I ever
saw. A four-hundred-yard run, all at once, was something new even for
me. I yelled for R. C. to throw off the drag. He tried, but failed. I
doubted afterward if that would have done any good. That swordfish was
going away from there. He broke the line.

"Gee! What a run!" I burst out. "I'm sorry. I hate to break off hooks in
fish."

"Put your hand on my reel," said R. C.

It was almost too hot to bear touching. R. C. began winding in the long
slack line.

"Did you see that one?" he asked, grimly.

"Not plain. But what I did see looked big."

"Say, he was a whale!" R. C.'s flashin