CHAPTER X.

THE SILVER KING.

Within half an hour the mysterious trail of smoke along the keys was obliterated, although it was not far in advance of the _Arrow’s_ course. Even before the boys had ceased to wonder what it really was, it seemed to vanish from sight as if blown away by a puff of wind, leaving them nothing but their useless speculation.

Presently they became aware of a new motion of the staunch little _Arrow_. It rode easily upon long, slow, oily swells, rising and sinking at a rate that soon caused the unhappy Seminole to stagger into the little cuddy of a cabin, with a look on his leathery face which prophesied that one Indian was about to be utterly and unrestrainedly seasick!

“Poor Dave!” said Norton, as the victim’s figure slouched dejectedly into a secluded corner. “I can sympathize with him, though I’m lucky enough not to know how he feels!”

“How about you, Billy, you land-lubber?” inquired Alec. “You’re beginning to look a trifle pale around the gills!”

“Shut up!” retorted Billy good-naturedly.

“Nice thing to tell a fellow, I must say!” remarked Chester with a grin.

“It’s enough to make anyone feel seasick, to be told he looks so!” Hugh added laughing. “Give a dog a bad name, and he’ll bite—just to save his reputa——”

“Something else is biting!” yelled Billy, and he sprang forward eagerly.

There was a rattling noise behind them. The captain, abandoning the wheel for a moment, reached forth and grabbed a tarpon rod that was sliding overboard. He thrust it into Alec’s hand.

“Hang on to it,” he gruffly directed. “You’ve got somethin’ big, lad. Mebbe, though, it’s only a shark.”

“Only a shark!” echoed Alec in surprise. “Why, I thought sharks were enormous!”

“There’s all kinds o’ sharks, big an’ little.”

“I’ve heard of land sharks,” murmured Norton, “and seen ’em, too; but I’ve never met with a sea shark. At least, I’ve never been on speaking terms with one.”

“This one pulls like a whale!” Alec declared, playing the long line, one hand on the reel.

Seeing that his own pole was all right, Billy remained close beside Alec, ready to lend a hand if Alec needed assistance. For a while none was needed, but by and by it began to appear that the fish was tiring the fisherman, instead of just the reverse. Alec’s wrists and forearms positively ached with the strain of managing the prize, and he allowed Billy to help him. All stood around, tense with interest, watching the contest. Even Dave, hearing their gleeful shouts and exclamations, forgot his misery and came forth from the cuddy to add his grunts and mumbled directions. However, he was unable to remain long on deck. With a portentous groan, he fled again to contend with his woes.

As the sloop plunged onward, they played the fish nearly an hour, taking turns so that all might share in the sport. Twice, by a skilful handling of the reel, Hugh barely kept the line from snapping. At last they drew the game in far enough to see a gleam of silver flash through the dark green water. A big tarpon leaped out of the bosom of a wave, glittered one moment in the sunlight, and then darted back into its native element.

“Gee! Did you see him?”

“Did I! Well, you bet I did!”

“Must be a fifty pounder!”

“All of that. No wonder he pulls so hard!”

“Keep your hand on the reel, Chester. He’ll snap the line if we’re not careful,” advised Norton. “Easy now! He’s tired, but there is a lot of fight in him yet.”

“Ginger! I should say so! Look at that!”

Again the big fish leaped.

“Where’s Dave with the gaff?” demanded Captain Vinton. “Dave, you lazy, good-fer-nothin’ sea-cook, come up here. Bring that gaff.”

Another frantic leap of the tarpon, not so high this time, brought a shout from Alec.

“Oh, you Dave! Hurry up!”

But the Indian just then was dead to this world. Not even a groan gave assurance that he was still alive and miserable. Silence hung over the deck of the _Arrow_, silence broken only by the excited gasps of her fishing crew.

Convinced that Dave would not or could not respond to the call, Vinton lashed the tiller, and reached into a locker from which he brought out the gaff. He prepared to use it as soon as the tarpon came within reach.

But there was more strength than he supposed in the tiring yet gamey sea-fighter. Out spun the line from the humming reel; to and fro darted the silver prize, until more than a dozen yards lay between him and the _Arrow’s_ gunwale.

“Reel in, reel in!” cried Norton. “Don’t give him a chance to jerk away.”

“Slow up a little!” the captain added quickly, leaning as far out over the rail as his portly proportions would allow. He was almost as eager as any of the boys. He had forgotten his dignity as master of the _Arrow_, and was lost in the excitement of capturing a fifty pounder.

“Slow now. That’s better—ah! He nearly got away then!”

Just about this time Hugh heard a sudden rasp of line spinning from his rod, which lay on the opposite side of the deck, wedged under another thwart.

“Hello! that pole will go overboard unless I do something,” he cried, and sprang forward to seize it as it slid toward the taffrail. He managed to catch it at the instant that the butt was about to slip oceanward. “Oh, come here!” he called out. “Another tarpon hooked!”

Thrusting the rod into Alec’s hands once more, Billy crossed over to join Hugh.

“Ready there now?” he heard Captain Vinton ask in a loud tone. And then came Chester’s eager, “A little nearer, Alec, a little nearer. There!”

Vinton made a lunge with the gaff.

“Durn him! He dodged it!” exclaimed the captain in great vexation.

“Try it again,” urged Norton cheerily. “Better luck next time.”

Meanwhile, on their side of the sloop, Hugh and Billy were having their hands full. One was trying to gain command of the reel, and the other was keeping a firm hold on the pole. So absorbed were they in this feat, they were oblivious to a sudden veer of the wind and an increased rolling of the _Arrow_. Hugh’s reel was buzzing furiously. With staring eyes he watched the line cut through the water, and every minute he and Billy expected to see a tarpon just as big as the first one leap from a wave.

They heard a shout, followed by a splash and the spasmodic flapping of a big fish landed on the deck, and they knew that the first tarpon had been caught. But they scarcely turned their heads to look. Their whole attention was given to this one.

Suddenly the captain, becoming aware of the wind flurry, sprang to the wheel.

“Look out, boys!” he cried hoarsely. “She’s going to jibe! Watch out, you two there!”

Startled, Billy glanced around and instantly realized the new peril; but Hugh, absorbed with holding the fish and saving his line, saw nothing. At Billy’s warning, however, he ducked his head just in time to escape a sweeping blow from the big boom which swung over the starboard beam, requiring Vinton to take a new tack. Still holding his line, desperately hoping that it would not break, Hugh began to reel in his prize swiftly and skilfully. Ordinarily he would not have tried this, but with the shifting of the vessel’s course he felt there was no time to spare. Besides, his tarpon seemed to have been more securely hooked than the first one, and Billy now knew just what to do. After about ten minutes of struggle, they succeeded in pulling up on deck a fish that was only a few inches smaller than the other, and their exploit was greeted with a cheer.

“Stow the shoutin’, lads!” ordered Captain Vinton. “Here! Take the sheet. That easter is a hummer, I reckon. Be ready to lower the peaks, Norton, if I give the word.”

Hugh, Alec, and Chester sprang for the main sheet, loosening it promptly. Billy stood ready to help Norton. The captain pushed the tiller away from the “nor’-easter,” and surveyed with “a weather eye” the rolling expanse of waters now darkened by frequent “flaws.”

“We’re right in the wake of a squall,” he stated calmly. “Keep cool, every mother’s son o’ you-all. Where’s that copper-hide rascal, Dave? In the cuddy, eh? Well, this’ll either kill him or cure him!”