for good. Grab the
rod. I'll enjoy the work for you."

R. C. resigned himself, not without some remarks anent the insatiable
nature of his host and boatman.

We were now off the east end of Clemente Island, that bleak and ragged
corner where the sea, whether calm or stormy, contended eternally with
the black rocks, and where the green and white movement of waves was
never still. When almost two hundred yards off the yellow kelp-beds I
saw a shadow darker than the blue water. It seemed to follow the boat,
rather deep down and far back. But it moved. I was on my feet,
thrilling.

"That's a swordfish!" I called.

"No," replied R. C.

"Some wavin' kelp, mebbe," added Dan, doubtfully.

"Slow up a little," I returned. "I see purple."

Captain Dan complied and we all watched. We all saw an enormous colorful
body loom up, take the shape of a fish, come back of R. C.'s bait, hit
it and take it.

"By George!" breathed R. C., tensely. His line slowly slipped out a
little, then stopped.

"He's let go," said my brother.

"There's another one," cried Dan.

With that I saw what appeared to be another swordfish, deeper down,
moving slowly. This one also looked huge to me. He was right under the
teasers. It dawned upon me that he must have an eye on them, so I began
to pull them in.

As they came in the purple shadow seemed to rise. It was a swordfish and
he resembled a gunboat with purple outriggers. Slowly he came onward and
upward, a wonderful sight.

"Wind your bait in!" I yelled to R. C.

Suddenly Dan became like a jumping-jack. "He's got your hook," he
shouted to my brother. "He's had it all the time."

The swordfish swam now right under the stern of the boat so that I could
look down upon him. He was deep down, but not too deep to look huge.
Then I saw R. C.'s leader in his mouth. He had swallowed the flying-fish
bait and had followed us for the teasers. The fact was stunning. R. C.,
who had been winding in, soon found out that his line went straight
down. He felt the fish. Then with all his might he jerked to hook that
swordfish.

Just then, for an instant my mind refused to work swiftly. It was locked
round some sense of awful expectancy. I remembered my camera in my
hands and pointed it where I expected something wonderful about to
happen.

The water on the right, close to the stern, bulged and burst with a
roar. Upward even with us, above us, shot a tremendously large, shiny
fish, shaking and wagging,