The boys followed his directions, and a moment later all were in the water.

Lester had previously unfastened the line by which they had been towing the shark and thrown it over to Fred, who stood the nearest to the sh.o.r.e. The rest ranged themselves along the line at intervals and bent their backs to the strain.

For strain it proved to be. While the huge carca.s.s was floating clear of the bottom it was comparatively easy to draw him along; but when the lower part began to sc.r.a.pe, it was a more difficult matter. They progressed only an inch at a time. By taking advantage of the rollers, however, as they came tumbling in, the boys finally got their booty to the edge of the water line. They could not drag it entirely clear of the water, but got it half way out, the head and upper part of the body remaining exposed, while the tail swished idly to and fro in the shallow water.

"Whew!" said Teddy, wiping his streaming forehead. "I wouldn't like to work so hard as that every day in the week."

"You won't have to," remarked Lester, comfortingly. "Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place, and the chances are that you'll never catch a shark again in your life."

"As long as a shark never catches me, I won't kick," said the philosophical Bill.

They threw themselves down on the beach, panting and perspiring. The day was very warm, and the excitement of the catch, together with their recent efforts, made the rest a needed and grateful one.

"Well," said Lester, the first to get on his feet again, "while you weary w.i.l.l.i.e.s are loafing here, I'm going up to Mark's cabin and see if he's at home. The chances are that he isn't, or he'd have been out to see what all this fuss was about. Still, he may be asleep. Anyway, whether he's home or not, I want to scare up an axe or hatchet or something of the kind to dig out that harpoon."

"What's the matter with the hatchet we've got?" asked Teddy lazily.

"That's rather small, and, besides, with that only one can work at a time. It'll take some digging to get through that hide. Then, too, you fellows were talking of getting out the teeth and strips of the hide for mementoes, and you can't do that with your pocket knives alone."

"Go on then, you h.o.r.n.y-handed son of toil, and luck be with you,"

drawled Bill. "You'll find us here when you get back."

"I'm sure of that," retorted Lester. "It would take an earthquake to make you fellows move."

Lester went up the beach until he reached the open door of the cabin and looked in. He found it deserted as he had expected. He went in and hunted about among its meagre belongings and came back to the boys, triumphant, bringing with him a hatchet, an axe and a large, keen-bladed knife that was used by Mark in cleaning his fish.

"Here they are!" he exclaimed, as he laid them down on the sand. "Mark wasn't at home, so I made free with these things of his, as I knew he wouldn't mind. There's no further excuse for you hoboes now, and you want to get a wiggle on."

"Take back them cruel woids," groaned Teddy.

"Listen to the chant of the slave driver!" jibed Bill.

"There's nothing left but to obey, shipmates," said Fred with mock resignation. "Remember he's the captain and we don't want to be tried for mutiny."

They distributed the implements among them and moved in a body toward the shark.

The first thing to do was to get out the harpoon, and this was no easy task, for the barb of the shank lay deeply imbedded among the tough fibres of its victim. The implement was freed at last, however, and Lester carefully washed it off in the water and then polished it with sand until it shone.

"Just see him gloat," laughed Teddy. "You'd think he was a pilgrim who had just come across a precious relic."

"Or a miner who had found a diamond," added Ross.

"He's earned the right to gloat," maintained Fred. "If I'd driven home a harpoon with such a sure hand and steady aim as his, I'd be so proud that my hat wouldn't fit me."

"I'm thinking as much of dad as I am of myself," grinned Lester. "He'll be tickled to death when he hears that I've speared a shark with that old harpoon of his. He's always thought a lot of it, but he'll think still more of it now."

"Well, now that the harpoon is out, let's turn this fellow on his back.

I want to have a good look at that mouth of his," remarked Fred.

It was quite an undertaking, but by distributing themselves along the body, using their implements as levers and all heaving at a given signal, they finally succeeded.

It was a frightful mouth, armed with huge rows of sawlike teeth, and although they knew the brute was dead the boys could not repress a shudder as they looked at it.

"Talk about a buzz saw!" exclaimed Teddy. "It couldn't cut you in two more neatly than this fellow could when he was swimming around."

"If those teeth could talk, I imagine they'd have some stories to tell,"

added Ross.

"And they wouldn't be pretty stories either," observed Bill.

"I wouldn't want him to be the undertaker at my funeral," said Fred, who could not help thinking that that dismal function might have been performed by this shark or some other the day he had gone overboard.

"Look at those wicked eyes," said Lester. "They're almost as fiendish now as they were when they looked up at us as he came swimming around the boat. I'll wager we'll see them more than once in our dreams."

"As long as we don't see them any other way it won't matter much,"

concluded Bill, the practical.

It was a full hour before the boys had cut the teeth from the bony sockets and had secured all the strips of hide they wanted to make up into souvenirs.

"We'll leave the rest of the carca.s.s here until the tide comes in and carries it away," remarked Lester, when the work was finished. "It'll float out to sea and the other fish will make short work of it."

"That'll be only justice," said Teddy. "He's feasted on them or their brothers by the ton in his time."

"The gulls will help them out," said Lester, as he pointed to a number of the great birds circling around. "They're getting ready now to pick the bones, and are only waiting for us to get out of the way before they settle down to the job."

"It's getting pretty late, isn't it?" inquired Bill. "I hardly think we'll see Bartanet Shoals again to-night."

"Not a chance in the world," replied Lester, as he looked at the sky, already crimsoning in the west. "We'll have to stay all night with Mark and make a break for home in the morning. But it doesn't matter, and dad won't be worrying about us this time, especially if the weather stays clear."

"I'm afraid Mark will find it some job to put us up for the night,"

observed Ross, as he noted the tiny dimensions of the little cabin on the beach.

"It isn't exactly a summer hotel," grinned Lester. "There's only one room and that's pretty well cluttered up with his nets and tackle and other junk."

"We'll probably have to sleep outside on the sand," remarked Bill.

"All the more fun," chimed in Teddy. "We've done it once and we can do it again. One thing sure, there won't be any kick coming on the question of ventilation. The earth for a bed, the sky for a blanket----"

"And the sea for a lullaby," finished Ross.

CHAPTER XX

THE EMPTY HUT

"Listen to the poets," jibed Bill. "Homer and Milton have nothing on them."