ight line he used to
tether the float to his belt, and they stepped into the water. The
temperature was just right. They ducked under, then put on their
equipment. Scotty pulled a rubber glove over his injured hand. Pushing
their floats ahead of them, faces down in the water, they started for
the reef.

Rick watched the bottom carefully. It was clear sand, with no sign of
life other than an occasional conch or other shellfish. This was to be
expected, since marine life tended to collect around reefs, rocks,
pilings, wrecks, and similar things. As they approached the reef, coral
heads and outcroppings began to appear. And with them, fish.

Rick hooted for Scotty's attention, then lifted his head and let his
mouthpiece fall free. "Let's go outside!" he called as Scotty looked up.
The other boy nodded agreement. Both were anxious to examine the reef.

The surf was light. They crossed over the reef by towing their floats
and timing their movements through the breakers. Once beyond the point
where the waves broke, the water was fairly calm, with only light surges
from the passing waves.

Rick looked down and saw the reef drop away under him. It shelved off
perhaps twenty feet down, then beyond the shelf it fell away into the
depths. He looked into the blueness with a stirring of excitement. To
find the _Maiden Hand_, they would have to swim into that mysterious
blue realm.

Scotty hooted. Rick looked, and followed the direction of his pointing
arm. There, browsing around the shelf below, was a handsome red snapper,
perhaps fifteen inches long. They had stopped in Miami and Rick had
noticed that red-snapper prices were about the same as those for steak.
There was no doubt that the fish was very good eating. He gestured to
Scotty to go after it, then floated motionless, watching.

Scotty put the loader over the tip of his spear and pushed down, cocking
the gun. Then, without a splash, he slid under the water. Rick watched
as his fins propelled him slowly toward the snapper. Scotty was moving
slowly, because this was the prime rule in underwater hunting. As he
swam, he extended the spear gun, aiming over the short barrel. The
snapper stopped browsing and his dorsal fin suddenly erected, a sign of
alarm. But he didn't move because he was not yet sure the big invader
was an enemy. Before he could make up his mind, Scotty fired.

The spear took the fish right behind the gills. He gave a quick spurt
that brought the line hu