coat, but he thought he had better make our lines
very safe, as they belonged to him. There was a big hook and a heavy
lead to the other end of the line, with a piece of fish for bait, and we
swung the lead around our heads, and threw it out into the surf as far
as we could. I thought I was pretty good on the throw, but I couldn't
begin to send my line out as far as Menendez threw his. As for Rectus,
he didn't pretend to do much in the throwing business. He whirled his
line around in such a curious way that I was very much afraid he would
hook himself in the ear. But Menendez put his line out for him. He
didn't want me to do it.

Then we stood there in the sand, with the water nearly up to our knees
every time the waves came in, and waited for a bite. There wasn't much
biting. Menendez said that the tide was too low, but I've noticed that
something is always too something, every time any one takes me out
fishing, so I didn't mind that.

Menendez did hook one fellow, I think, for he gave a tremendous jerk at
his line, and began to skip inshore as if he were but ten years old; but
it was of no use. The fish changed his mind.

Then we stood and waited a while longer, until, all of a sudden, Rectus
made a skip. But he went the wrong way. Instead of skipping out of the
water, he skipped in. He went in so far that he got his trousers
dripping wet.

"Hello!" I shouted. "What's up?"

He didn't say anything, but began to pull back, and dig his heels into
the sand. Old Menendez and I saw, at the same moment, what was the
matter, and we made a rush for him. I was nearest, and got there first.
I seized Rectus by the shoulder, and pulled him back a little.

"Whew-w!" said he; "how this twine cuts!"

Then I took hold of the line in front of him, and there was no mistaking
the fact--he had a big fish on the other end of it.

"Run out!" cried Menendez, who thought there was no good of three
fellows hauling on the line; and out we ran.

When we had gone up the beach a good way, I looked back and saw a
rousing big fish flopping about furiously in the shallow water.

"Go on!" shouted Menendez; and we ran on until we had pulled it high and
dry up on the sand.

Then Menendez fell afoul of it to take out the hook, and we hurried back
to see it. It was a whopping big bass, and by the powerful way it threw
itself around on the sand, I didn't wonder that Rectus ran into the
water when he got the first jerk.

Now, this was somethi