CHAPTER V

THE PROFESSOR’S TRICK

The boys looked to where the scientist pointed. Some large shape could be seen just under the surface of the water, which was being churned into foam by the action of the creature’s flippers.

“How did that get hold of us?” asked Bob. “Has it got us in its mouth?”

“The anchor got loose and dangled over the side,” explained Jerry as he made a hasty examination. “One of the flukes must have caught under the turtle’s shell after we rammed it. Now the creature is carrying us out to sea!”

“Cut the rope!” cried Ned. “He’ll swamp us!”

“No! No!” shouted Jerry. “We can’t afford to lose our anchor. We’ll need it later on.”

“But how are we going to get rid of the turtle?” asked Bob. “He’ll swamp us if he gets us away out in the rough water.”

The situation was indeed a grave one. The turtle, doubtless imagining it had the best of some enemy, was increasing its speed. With the anchor caught under a forward flipper, where it offered no impediment to swimming, the big creature was towing the _Dartaway_ as easily as it might a piece of driftwood.

“Reverse the engine!” suggested Ned.

“I don’t want to do that,” objected Jerry. “He’s pulling so strong that if we start the motor on the reverse we may damage the boat.”

“But we’ve got to do something,” put in Bob.

“I have it!” cried Jerry. “I’ll shoot the turtle!”

He made his way to the stern of the craft, where in a locker the boys had stowed their guns. Jerry took out his repeating rifle and loaded it. By this time the boat was well out from shore, close to which the craft had been kept because the water was not so rough there.

“What are you going to do?” asked the professor. After his first glimpse of the turtle he had, apparently, taken no further interest in it, but was intently watching the gyrations of a swarm of little gnats that were flying about the boat.

“Going to shoot the turtle,” replied Jerry. “We can’t get rid of him any other way, and there’s no telling where he’ll take us.”

“But you can’t shoot him,” said the scientist, steadying himself against the rocking of the boat, which was now among some big rollers.

“Why not?”

“In the first place he is so far down under the water that the bullets would glance off, and never touch him. And, if by some chance they should hit him, his shell is thick enough to make them seem like dried peas.”

“I’ll aim at his head,” proposed Jerry, anxious to use his rifle on the creature.

“I fancy he has his head well drawn back under his protecting shell,” Mr. Snodgrass went on.

“Try for a flipper,” put in Ned.

“His flippers are mostly only muscle and cartilage,” declared the professor. “He wouldn’t mind a bullet through them any more than you would if you stuck a pin in the calloused part of the palm of your hand.”

“Then what can we do?” asked Jerry, who was beginning to be a little frightened at the prospect before them. The turtle seemed tireless.

“I’ll have to try a trick,” the scientist announced. “Have you a fishing rod aboard?”

“Several of them,” replied Jerry. “But do you think you can catch him on a hook and line?”

“Scarcely. But get the longest pole you have, please. I’ll show you something that I think will make Mr. Turtle let go of our anchor.”

Wondering what their friend was about to do the boys watched him select a strong line from the supply they had brought along. Next the professor fastened on a large hook, using a strong wire snell.

“Got any meat aboard,” was the scientist’s next question.

“Some canned stuff,” replied Bob, who could be depended on to know what was in the larder.

“That will do. Get me a large firm piece.”

Bob opened some corned beef, and soon the professor had baited the hook. Then he took his position in the bow and, with the rod extended at the end of which dangled the line, hook and meat, he prepared to put his trick into operation.

Fortunately the rope to which the anchor was attached had caught on a cleat after paying out a little as the turtle fouled the fluke. This permitted the creature to go but a short distance ahead of the _Dartaway_ which it was towing. Otherwise the scientist might have been unable to do as he did.

While the boys watched him Uriah Snodgrass lowered the bait into the water, just ahead of the little ripples that indicated where the turtle’s head was located.

“He’s surely going to try to catch the turtle,” said Bob in a low voice. “I hope he does. I’ve heard that turtle soup and steaks are fine eating.”

“Can’t you let up on eating at a time like this?” demanded Jerry in a sharp whisper.

The professor was leaning forward in an expectant attitude. It did look as though he hoped to catch the turtle as one angles after a wary fish. To a certain extent, that was what happened. The big creature saw the bait dangling in front of it. The rush of the water through which it was gliding swept the meat nearer. It liked the smell of the canned corned beef, though probably it was a new item on the turtle’s bill of fare. At any rate the matter of towing that troublesome object, which persisted in following it need not interfere with a meal. The turtle decided to take the meat.

Just as it was about to grasp the bait in the horny beak, strong enough to shear through a man’s foot, the professor, who was on the watch with sharp eyes, moved it ahead a little, and then to one side. The turtle doubtless thought the thing was alive and this made it all the more anxious to get the food. There was a flurry of the strong flippers. The turtle turned to one side to follow the tempting morsel.

Cautiously the professor moved the rod and bait until he was holding it over the side of the boat instead of out from the bow. The turtle kept turning to reach the meat which was held just a few inches beyond its nose.

Suddenly there was a rush in the water and the pole bent almost double. The reel sent out a shrill screech.

“I’ve hooked him!” cried the professor. “He’s free from the rope now! Start the engine, Jerry!”

Jerry lost no time in doing this. The chug-chug of the motor was soon heard and the _Dartaway_ forged ahead, freed from its deep-sea captor.

“Haul up the anchor!” called the professor to Ned. “We don’t want any more happenings like that. Bob, put the wheel around and send us toward shore. It’s too rough out here.”

The three boys were busy attending to the boat, while the scientist was still holding the tauted line and the bent pole over the side of the craft. An instant later there sounded a sharp snap.

“The line’s broken!” cried the professor. “There goes the turtle!”

He pointed ahead to where a flurry in the water indicated the presence of the creature. “Well, I hope he likes his canned beef with hook dressing. At any rate we’re well rid of him, though I would liked to have had him for a specimen.”

“That was quite a trick,” observed Jerry, as he took charge of the steering wheel.