Chapter XXXII: About Many Things

AS soon as the anchors were dropped all scrambled into the skiffs, eager to be ashore.

They landed close to the sand spit that barred the creek's entrance, and a few steps brought them to where they could look in on the little inland lake. All stood silent for a moment, gazing at the thousands on thousands of little, open, gasping mouths.

"I expected to see some fish from what you told us but I didn't expect anything like this," said Bill, drawing a deep breath. "Boy, there's a pot of money waiting for us in that little pond."

The other fishermen's faces were expressive of amazement and envy.

"You might have let us in on this," one of them grumbled.

"Would any of you have done it for us if you had found them?" Charley demanded.

"I wouldn't," the man admitted. "But, all the same, ten dollars a day looks mighty small with all this money in sight."

"We need every dollar we can make off of this thing," the lad said, "but we want to be as generous as we can afford to be. We are going to do better by you than we bargained to do. If you all do your best to help us put these fish into Clearwater, we will give you ten per cent on what we make in addition to the ten dollars a day we promised you."

"That's more than fair," declared Captain Brown. "We will do our best. All hands had better get to work at once. Those fish are about all in. I doubt if they will live thirty-six hours longer."

Charley had planned everything on the way down the coast and he had already arranged each man's part so that the work might be done with system and despatch. The Roberts and himself were to do the work with the nets. The fishermen were to do the loading, with the captain to help them. All of them were to work on one launch at a time and as soon as it was loaded it was to start for Clearwater while the next one received its cargo.

To Chris was assigned the job of cooking for all hands, so that no time would be lost in the preparation of meals.

Charley and the Roberts had taken on themselves the hardest part of the work, but the four went at their nasty, disagreeable task with vigor and cheerfulness.

Taking an end of the joined nets, they waded across one end of the shallow lagoon stringing it out behind them. As soon as they had gotten the end to the opposite shore, two got to each end and pulled lustily.

They had been careful to cut off only a small portion of the lagoon, but even so, they found that the fish between the net and shore were almost more than they could handle. They had to pull with all their might to drag in the ladened net, and as they pulled, they feared each minute that the fine twine would give way under the tremendous pressure.

But at last they got the net ashore, its meshes full of struggling, silvery mullet.

Then began the tiring work of getting the fish out of the fine, tangling twine. As fast as they were taken out they tossed them into a large box, and as soon as the box was filled, a fisherman carried it to the waiting skiffs and dumped the load, returning for another.

In two hours the first launch was loaded, and started back for Clearwater.

Walter, his ankle done up in splints and bandages, and using a cane for a crutch, limped into the fish house, the day following his accident, and sought a seat on a pile of old nets in a corner where he was not likely to be seen by Mr. Daniels. He had not sought the kindly fish boss yet to tell him of the loss of the launch. He was deferring the unpleasant task in hopes that his chums would be successful when the telling would be easier. Besides, he was not feeling equal to the task of explaining. His foot pained him intensely. He was also depressed by the doctor's statement that he had suffered a compound fracture of the ankle and must not try to use his foot for many days to come. He had but little money in his pocket and had not dared spend any of it for board and lodging. Instead he had slept miserably in a skiff pulled up on shore and had breakfasted off of cheese and crackers. Taking it all in all he did not feel equal to the unpleasant task of breaking bad news. He had been drawn to the fish house, however, knowing that there he would be likely to hear the first news of his absent chums. He was hoping Mr. Daniels would, not spy him in his secluded corner.

But Mr. Daniels was having troubles of his own. A dull season is hard on the fishermen but harder still on the fish boss. On the desk before him was a heap of letters and telegrams from customers demanding fish. If he could not supply them at once, they would of course buy elsewhere. Building up a trade is slow work, and if you cannot supply its wants, it is soon lost. He was worrying through the mass of mail when the telephone bell rang. He lifted the receiver off the hook.

"Hello! who's this?" he demanded, curtly.

"It's Captain Brown, Cap," answered a tired voice. "I'm at the dock. Send down for some fish, will you?"

"How many have you got, twenty pounds?" demanded Mr. Daniels, sarcastically.

"Call it twenty pounds if you like," drawled the tired voice. "I calculate, though, that they will come nearer tipping the scales at ten thousand pounds."

"Good boy," exclaimed the fish boss in delight. "They will help me out a lot. Where did you catch them."

"I didn't catch them," said the weary tones. "Credit them to the account of those new guys, 'West, Hazard and so forth.' Good-by, I've got to go back for another load."

Walter in his secluded corner caught enough of the conversation to tell him that his chums had succeeded. He forgot his pain and discouragement. Things took on a rosy tinge. He suddenly remembered the dime's worth of cheese and crackers, for breakfast, had only put an edge on his appetite. He stole out of the fish house and hobbled down the street to a little restaurant where he was soon seated behind a big, juicy steak and mashed potatoes.

As soon as his hunger was appeased, he hobbled back to the fish house.

There he remained all the balance of the day and far into the night for the fish house was the scene of great excitement. One after the other the launches arrived with their finny cargoes. When the last one was unloaded the first to arrive was back again with another load. The house's regular force was unable to handle the deluge. Men, boys, and even women were hired at fancy prices to assist. Packing in barrels became impossible. As many as could be were packed that way but the most were hustled, unpacked, into a car and heavily iced down.

"For goodness' sake, how many more are coming?" Mr. Daniels demanded of a midnight arrival.

"Not many," answered the launch captain. "They were making their last haul when I left. Some of the fishermen followed the first launch back and are trying to butt into the snap."

"The rascally scoundrels," exclaimed Mr. Daniels, indignantly.

The man grinned wearily. "You needn't worry," he said. "When I left, Bill Roberts was standing off the gang with a rifle, while the other fellows got out the fish."

"They must be about tired out by this time," commented the fish boss.

"Tired!" exclaimed the launch captain. "I am pretty well worn out myself and we launch men have the easiest part of the job. Those fellows who are handling the nets are earning every dollar they will make. Their fingers are worn through both skins handling that fine, wet twine. Their hands are just bleeding raw, and you know how salt water and fish slimes smart the smallest cut. They have bent over the nets so long that they can't straighten up without bringing the tears to their eyes. I'd like to have the money they will make, but hanged if I would work that hard for it."

The launch captain had not overstated the case. The little party on the beach below were very near the limit of human endurance when the last fish was taken out of the nets. The launch captain had to assist them to the skiffs and into the launches. Once aboard the motor boats, they stretched out on the seats and slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.

Another day had dawned when the fish captain awoke them at Clearwater.

Walter, radiant of countenance, was waiting on the dock to welcome them.

It took Charley several minutes to regain his sleep-scattered wits.

"How much did they weigh?" he asked eagerly, as he wrung his chum's hand in congratulation.

"Just an even hundred and fifty thousand pounds," Walter said.

"Good! at two cents a pound, that's three thousand dollars."

"Better than that," beamed his chum. "Owing to the scarcity of fish, the market has gone up a cent a pound."

"Four thousand five hundred dollars," cried Charley, in delight. "Over two thousand dollars to be divided up amongst us four. It's almost too good to be true."

"And that's not all," added Walter, eagerly. "We are not going to lose much on the launch, after all. Mr. Daniels says she was insured for nearly her full value."

"All's well that ends well," Charley commented. "We have not come out of our fishing venture so badly after all."

"I am afraid we haven't reached the end just yet," said Walter, his countenance sobering. "I've got something pretty serious to tell you as soon as we are all alone."

"If it's nothing real pressing, save it a while," said Charley, hastily. "I want to get some money from Mr. Daniels and pay off the launch captains. Then, I want a good long sleep with nothing to worry me. The Roberts have insisted on our staying with them a couple of days until we get straightened out. We will go over to their camp as soon as I get the fishermen paid off."

It took but a short time to get the money and pay off the sleepy launch captains. They were all well-pleased with their share of the venture. Besides the ten dollars a day, they received four hundred and fifty dollars to be divided among them.

This business attended to, our little party joined the Roberts in their launch and the run to camp was quickly made. As soon as it was reached, the workers turned in for a good, long sleep, and Walter was left alone with his secret.