n expected that Nat Burns in the
_Nettie B._ would prove a strong contender for premier honors, but,
because of his ceaseless efforts to drive home his revenge, Nat had
done very little fishing and therefore could not possibly be in the
market.

Other Freekirk Head men shrugged their shoulders at this. Nat had the
money, and could act that way if it pleased him, they said. But,
nevertheless, he lost favor with a great many of his former friends,
for the reason that the whole fishing expedition had been a concerted
movement to save the people and credit of the island, and not an
exploitation of individual desires.

Burns had, with his customary indifference to others, made it just
exactly such an exploitation, and the sentiment that had been strong
for him at the outset of the cruise was now turning decidedly the
other way; although he little guessed this or would have been
influenced had he done so.

In reality, then, the race for fish was keenest between the _Charming
Lass_, the _Rosan_, and the _Herring Bone_, with three other schooners
very close on their heels.

At the end of the nine days there was little space beneath the deck
planks of the _Charming Lass_, but every night Pete would come up,
slapping his hands free of salt, and say, "Wal, boys, I guess we can
crowd another day's work into her," and the exhausted men would gather
themselves for another great effort as they rolled forward into their
bunks.

Every twenty-four hours they did crowd another day's work into her, so
that she carried nearly a hundred and fifty tons and the dripping
brine had to be pumped out of the hold.

It was the night of the day that opened this chapter.

The lanterns by which the men had dressed down had been lifted from
their supports, the cod livers dumped into the gurry-butt, and the
tables removed from the rails. The two men on the first watch were
sharpening the splitting knives on a tiny grindstone and walking
forward occasionally to see that the anchor and trawl buoy lights were
burning.

The still air resounded with the snores of the exhausted men forward
in the forecastle.

Silently out of the darkness a dory came toward the schooner, pulled
by the brawny arms of two men. In the stern of the oncoming boat sat a
solitary figure, who strained his eyes toward his destination.

The dory was within fifty yards of the _Lass_ before the men on deck
became aware of its approach. Then, fearing some evil work in
connect