THE PROFESSOR’S TRICK
The boys looked to where the scientist pointed. Some large shape could
be seen just under the surface of the water, which was being churned
into foam by the action of the creature’s flippers.
“How did that get hold of us?” asked Bob. “Has it got us in its mouth?”
“The anchor got loose and dangled over the side,” explained Jerry as he
made a hasty examination. “One of the flukes must have caught under the
turtle’s shell after we rammed it. Now the creature is carrying us out
to sea!”
“Cut the rope!” cried Ned. “He’ll swamp us!”
“No! No!” shouted Jerry. “We can’t afford to lose our anchor. We’ll
need it later on.”
“But how are we going to get rid of the turtle?” asked Bob. “He’ll
swamp us if he gets us away out in the rough water.”
The situation was indeed a grave one. The turtle, doubtless imagining
it had the best of some enemy, was increasing its speed. With the
anchor caught under a forward flipper, where it offered no impediment
to swimming, the big creature was towing the _Dartaway_ as easily as it
might a piece of driftwood.
“Reverse the engine!” suggested Ned.
“I don’t want to do that,” objected Jerry. “He’s pulling so strong that
if we start the motor on the reverse we may damage the boat.”
“But we’ve got to do something,” put in Bob.
“I have it!” cried Jerry. “I’ll shoot the turtle!”
He made his way to the stern of the craft, where in a locker the boys
had stowed their guns. Jerry took out his repeating rifle and loaded
it. By this time the boat was well out from shore, close to which the
craft had been kept because the water was not so rough there.
“What are you going to do?” asked the professor. After his first
glimpse of the turtle he had, apparently, taken no further interest in
it, but was intently watching the gyrations of a swarm of little gnats
that were flying about the boat.
“Going to shoot the turtle,” replied Jerry. “We can’t get rid of him
any other way, and there’s no telling where he’ll take us.”
“But you can’t shoot him,” said the scientist, steadying himself
against the rocking of the boat, which was now among some big rollers.
“Why not?”
“In the first place he is so far down under the water that the bullets
would glance off, and never touch him. And, if by some chance they
should hit him, his shell is thick enough to make them seem like dried
peas.”
“I’ll aim at his head,” proposed Jerry, anxious to use his rifle on the
creature.
“I fancy he has his head well drawn back under his protecting shell,”
Mr. Snodgrass went on.
“Try for a flipper,” put in Ned.
“His flippers are mostly only muscle and cartilage,” declared the
professor. “He wouldn’t mind a bullet through them any more than you
would if you stuck a pin in the calloused part of the palm of your
hand.”
“Then what can we do?” asked Jerry, who was beginning to be a little
frightened at the prospect before them. The turtle seemed tireless.
“I’ll have to try a trick,” the scientist announced. “Have you a
fishing rod aboard?”
“Several of them,” replied Jerry. “But do you think you can catch him
on a hook and line?”
“Scarcely. But get the longest pole you have, please. I’ll show you
something that I think will make Mr. Turtle let go of our anchor.”
Wondering what their friend was about to do the boys watched him
select a strong line from the supply they had brought along. Next the
professor fastened on a large hook, using a strong wire snell.
“Got any meat aboard,” was the scientist’s next question.
“Some canned stuff,” replied Bob, who could be depended on to know what
was in the larder.
“That will do. Get me a large firm piece.”
Bob opened some corned beef, and soon the professor had baited the
hook. Then he took his position in the bow and, with the rod extended
at the end of which dangled the line, hook and meat, he prepared to put
his trick into operation.
Fortunately the rope to which the anchor was attached had caught on
a cleat after paying out a little as the turtle fouled the fluke.
This permitted the creature to go but a short distance ahead of the
_Dartaway_ which it was towing. Otherwise the scientist might have been
unable to do as he did.
While the boys watched him Uriah Snodgrass lowered the bait into the
water, just ahead of the little ripples that indicated where the
turtle’s head was located.
“He’s surely going to try to catch the turtle,” said Bob in a low
voice. “I hope he does. I’ve heard that turtle soup and steaks are fine
eating.”
“Can’t you let up on eating at a time like this?” demanded Jerry in a
sharp whisper.
The professor was leaning forward in an expectant attitude. It did look
as though he hoped to catch the turtle as one angles after a wary fish.
To a certain extent, that was what happened. The big creature saw the
bait dangling in front of it. The rush of the water through which it
was gliding swept the meat nearer. It liked the smell of the canned
corned beef, though probably it was a new item on the turtle’s bill of
fare. At any rate the matter of towing that troublesome object, which
persisted in following it need not interfere with a meal. The turtle
decided to take the meat.
Just as it was about to grasp the bait in the horny beak, strong enough
to shear through a man’s foot, the professor, who was on the watch with
sharp eyes, moved it ahead a little, and then to one side. The turtle
doubtless thought the thing was alive and this made it all the more
anxious to get the food. There was a flurry of the strong flippers.
The turtle turned to one side to follow the tempting morsel.
Cautiously the professor moved the rod and bait until he was holding it
over the side of the boat instead of out from the bow. The turtle kept
turning to reach the meat which was held just a few inches beyond its
nose.
[Illustration: THE TURTLE KEPT TURNING TO REACH THE MEAT]
Suddenly there was a rush in the water and the pole bent almost double.
The reel sent out a shrill screech.
“I’ve hooked him!” cried the professor. “He’s free from the rope now!
Start the engine, Jerry!”
Jerry lost no time in doing this. The chug-chug of the motor was soon
heard and the _Dartaway_ forged ahead, freed from its deep-sea captor.
“Haul up the anchor!” called the professor to Ned. “We don’t want any
more happenings like that. Bob, put the wheel around and send us toward
shore. It’s too rough out here.”
The three boys were busy attending to the boat, while the scientist was
still holding the tauted line and the bent pole over the side of the
craft. An instant later there sounded a sharp snap.
“The line’s broken!” cried the professor. “There goes the turtle!”
He pointed ahead to where a flurry in the water indicated the presence
of the creature. “Well, I hope he likes his canned beef with hook
dressing. At any rate we’re well rid of him, though I would liked to
have had him for a specimen.”
“That was quite a trick,” observed Jerry, as he took charge of the
steering wheel.