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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Fin on the starboard bow! Keep her off, Throppy!" In a short time the Barracouta was close behind the unconscious fish. From the bowsprit end burst a shout of disgust: "No good! I can see him plain! Tail's too limber! Only a shark! Swing her off, Throppy!" "How can I tell a shark from a swordfish?" Budge called down to Jim.
"No need of waiting until you're in the last stages, Budge," observed Jim. "Uncle Tom told me we could have a lamb whenever we wanted one. All we've got to do is to kill it." A silence settled over the camp. The boys looked at one another. Nobody hankered for the job. "Budge spoke first," suggested Throppy. "I'm no butcher," returned Lane.
"You and Throppy can pull these to-morrow morning, Budge," said Jim, and he gave them brief directions. "I'll make a trip with you myself the next day. But to-morrow Whittington and I are going to see what we can get on the trawl." After an early supper they climbed the eastern point.
Filippo opened the cabin door and stood framed within it, the light behind him casting a cheery glow down the beach. Louder and louder the bank behind the lagoon flung back the staccato of the exhaust. Presently the sloop nosed into the haven, the engine stopped, and Throppy went forward to gaff the mooring. The dories were cast off and rowed to the beach.
He buckled down manfully. Another task that he set before himself was the establishment of cordial relations with the other members of the party. He realized that his own fault had made this necessary. It had been an easy matter to get on good terms with Jim, Budge, and Throppy.
Though the day was clear, they could still feel the fog in the air. Jim allotted the company their several stations. "Budge, you swarm up to that seat on the gaff and watch out for fins! Throppy, you steer as Budge tells you! Stand by to take the dory, Perce, and go after any fish I'm lucky enough to iron.
"Come on, Throppy!" exhorted Lane. "Don't go calling to-night! Get out of the ether and give some other wireless sharps a look-in! Pull off that harness and take down your violin. Let's make an evening of it! We sha'n't have many more." Stevens lifted his hands to remove the headpiece. Suddenly a change came over his face and his arms dropped slowly. He gave his mates a warning look.
The dory, made sound and tight by the ship's carpenter, was dropped overboard, and the boys rowed into Sprowl's Cove. Their appearance transformed the gloom that overhung Camp Spurling into the wildest joy. Budge, Throppy, and Filippo burst out of the cabin and raced headlong down the beach, waking the echoes with their shouts of welcome.
He had gotten into the habit of thinking he could not live without a daily paper. While the others were purchasing various supplies, including some mosquito netting, he replenished his stock of cigarettes. "Anybody here got a wireless?" inquired Throppy. "No, but there's one on Criehaven, three miles south."
"Something livelier, Throppy," said Jim. Stevens started in on "Dixie." As the first spirited notes came dancing off the violin their guest raised his head quickly, and before the selection was finished his cheerfulness had returned. "Can you play 'The Campbells Are Coming'?" he inquired.
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