He looked at his
fellow fishermen jigging away, smiling and happy looking, their faces ruddy
with health and serenity. The investigator hated them and their joyful jigging
But he jigged on,
for what is a man to do? Can he cry out, "Turn back, I am sick to the point
of dying? I am weak and faint and can jig no more?"
There was nothing
to be done but to jig on and perhaps to die jigging aboard this cursed
investigator's line suddenly screamed. It sang out to sea.
anything. The two other fishermen started reeling in as rapidly as they
was down from the bridge like a shot. His mate sprang to the wheel in the
fishermen backed away from their chairs.
investigator's head was clear as a bell. He started to reel the line in. Then,
for a split second he stopped and looked vacantly around.
The line grew