Chapter XIX: Telling Mr. Daniels

"THERE are several things that can happen to a net to make it rot quickly," Bill said. "Little things that a greenhorn might not think of any consequence. Now, first, have you run into any big bunches of gilly fish?"

"No," Charley answered, "we have been lucky in that respect. I know why you ask the question. The slime from them catches in the knots of the meshes and unless well washed out will hasten their decay."

"Correct," agreed Bill. "Then it is not gilly fish that done that damage. Next, have you been hauling your nets out to dry as soon as you got in, mornings."

"Yes, they have been on the racks drying before the sun got up good. I've fished enough to know that a hot sun on a wet, heaped-up net will cause the twine to heat and rot quickly."

"Well, that does away with another possibility," Bill said. "One of the most frequent causes of net trouble lies with the liming of them."

"Yes, I know," the lad agreed. "Some mix the lime with water in their skiffs and throw it on the nets before it has time to slack thoroughly and it then burns up the twine. But that isn't the trouble. I was careful about that. I fixed up a barrel on the dock before we started in to fish. And every night before we started out I would put in a bucket of lime and fill the barrel up with water. Our nets were limed in the morning from that barrel. At least, I am pretty sure they were. I told Chris to do it. He has tended to the nets."

"Sho', I always used dat water in de barrel," agreed the little darkey. "Only trouble was dat dar wasn't ebber enough ob it to dose all three nets good. By de time I got your's and de captain's fixed good, I'd have to put in more water to hab enough for Massa Walt's net."

"There is your trouble right in that lime barrel," said Bill, with certainty. "It was always weakened down for Walter's net, and you say his net is all right yet."

But Charley protested. "I never made the mixture strong enough to do any harm in the first place."

"I'm going to take a look," announced Bill, picking up the lantern. "Everything points to that lime water and it must be it."

The three followed in his wake as he led the way down to the dock.

He examined the nets first. "Gee," he exclaimed, "I should say they were rotten. Let's have a look at Walter's."

He stepped over to the rack where hung the lad's net and tested several meshes. "It is not as bad as those others," he announced. "Still it is getting pretty weak, I don't believe it would last out if a good school of fish struck it. Now let's look into that lime-water barrel."

He plunged his arm down in the partly-filled barrel and felt the water tentatively.

"Where do you keep your barrel of lime?" he asked, as he straightened up.

"Right there on shore under that palm tree," Charley pointed out. "Want to look at the lime?"

"No," said the big fisherman, absently, "I've seen enough."

He led the way back to the cabin in silence.

"Well, what do you make of it?" Charley asked when they were seated once more inside.

"I'm sure sorry for you, fellows," blurted out the big fisherman, impulsively. "You've been played as mean a low-down trick as was ever played on anyone."

"How?" demanded the captain and Charley together.

"Someone has mixed potash in with the lime in your lime barrel, and it's just eaten the life out of your twine. It has been done to fishermen more than once around here and by that same gang of rascals. It never occurred to me that it had been done to your net, though, till I felt of that water. Lime water should feel harsh and gritty, but that felt oily and soapy and I knew then what the trouble was.

"I wish I could help you out," he said, feelingly, noting the utter discouragement in the three faces. "I would gladly lend you nets if we had any but our old ones are all fished out and we have only three new ones ordered. It was so near the end of the season we did not order any extra ones."

"We are mighty grateful to you anyway," Captain Westfield said. "You mustn't mind if we ain't very pleasant company just now. This last business has put us in a bad fix and we have got to study some way out of it."

"I know," agreed Bill, sympathetically, "and as I can't do any good here now, I'll run over to camp and turn in. I've got to go over to Clearwater in the morning to tend to a little pressing business. Anything I can get you there?"

"No," Charley said, thanking him, "we have got to go over ourselves to-morrow and tell Mr. Daniels about the nets."

When the kindly-hearted fisherman was gone, the three sat long debating gloomily what they should do but arriving at no decision. "We might as well turn in," said Captain Westfield at last. "Thar's only one thing I can see clearly. We must go to Mr. Daniels to-morrow, like men, and tell him about our loss. If he can give us any work to do, we must take it and work until we have paid him every cent we owe, if it takes a year to do it."

His two companions heartily agreed to this statement. It was clearly the only honest course to take.

It was late when they at last got to sleep, and consequently late when they awoke.

As soon as they had breakfasted, Charley and the captain started for Clearwater, leaving Chris to look after Walter's wants.

On the Clearwater dock they found Bill Roberts and his two brothers.

"I'll keep an eye on your launch until you come back, if both of you want to go up to the fish house," Bill offered, a proposal they gladly accepted.

For a wonder Mr. Daniels was not busy and Charley poured out the story of their losses in a manly, straightforward manner.

"We don't want you to think that we are asking you to take up our quarrels for us," he concluded, flushing. "We simply want to make it plain that we have done the very best we knew how. As we figure it, we owe you now about one hundred and fifty dollars which the prospects do not look very bright for our paying at present. If you have any work we can do, we will gladly work out the debt. If not, we will have to wait until we can get to earning again. But we will pay you every cent just as soon as we possibly can."

"Don't worry your head about the debt," said Mr. Daniels, heartily. "I am sure you and your companions have done your best and I am truly sorry you have met with so many misfortunes. What you owe the fish house can stand until you are able to pay it. If I owned the business, I would cancel the debt entirely but I am only manager here."

"You are very kind to take it this way," Charley said, gratefully. "I was afraid you might be angry at the failure we have made."

Mr. Daniels smiled. "What you have told me about your troubles is not exactly news to me," he said. "You have good friends in those Roberts boys and they have kept me pretty well posted as to how things were going. I would have got rid of that Hunter gang long ago but they are deeply in debt to the Company and the only chance to get any of it back is to take out a little, each week, from the fish they catch. You see, I have got to consider the Company's interests always above my personal wishes.

"What concerns me most, now," he continued, "is what you and your friends are going to do now that your nets are gone. Bill Roberts was up to tell me this morning that If I would let you have another set of nets he would stand good for them. But I told him that was unnecessary. I would gladly refit you again on my own responsibility if I had nets, but we have not got another one in the house. Have you any plan for the future?"

"No very clear one," Charley admitted. "As you know it's Florida's dull season now. There's very little doing except in the pineapple fields."

Mr. Daniels considered for a few minutes. "I do not like to advise you to do it, because it's dangerous work, but there is one thing you might pick up enough money at to tide you over the dull season."

"What is it?" Captain Westfield demanded, eagerly.

"Hook and line fishing for groupers and grunts out in the gulf. After all, I do not know as it is very dangerous if one keeps close watch of the weather."

"The captain here is a regular weather prophet," Charley asserted. "He can smell bad weather hours before it comes."

"That's a valuable gift for that kind of work," Mr. Daniels replied. "The grouper banks lay out in the gulf from eight to eleven miles from shore, and it wouldn't do for a small boat to be caught out there in a heavy squall. The more I think of it, the more I think it would be a good thing for you. You can keep right on using the launch, and the hooks and lines you need will cost but little. Of course, there is no big fortune in it but you had ought to make more than wages. Very likely, you could earn enough to pull out of the hole."

"I reckon we'd better try it," said Captain Westfield. "I've done a lot of hook and line fishing in my time."

"We can start to-morrow," Charley agreed, promptly, his spirits rising at the possibility of a way out of their difficulties.

"Very well," agreed Mr. Daniels. "I'll give you a note to the store-keeper to let you have the lines and tackles, as well as what more groceries you need."

"I would feel quite hopeful," said Charley, as he thanked the kind-hearted manager, "if I did not fear that Hunter would find some way of still further injuring us."

"Silas Hunter will not bother you for a couple of weeks, anyway," Mr. Daniels assured him. "They took him and a couple of his cronies to the Tampa hospital on this morning's train."

"Sick?" Captain Westfield inquired, with great relief.

"You might call it that," Mr. Daniels smiled. "Bill Roberts got so mad over what he had done to you boys that he came over this morning and gave him a licking he'll not forget in a hurry. Some of the gang tried to interfere and Bill's brothers gave them a dose of the same medicine. Those boys are good friends of yours, and they are friends worth having."

"Will not Hunter have them arrested?" inquired Charley, in fear for his zealous friends.

Mr. Daniels' smile broadened. "I think not," he said. "Bill warned him if he did, he would repeat the operation over again."